And We Fall
by WolvesInBoundary
Summary: Magnus starts off at a new school and finds himself quickly becoming friends with the odd, detached boy no one really knows, Alec. As they grow closer, Magnus realizes that while there is so much more to Alec than he can imagine, more is not good in this case. And while his worry for his friend grows, so do his feelings but he knows he can't act on them until Alec lets him in.
1. And We Meet

**_Hey guys, new story here that I'm really excited about! I've got an awesome buffer on it too so I'll be updating every weekend. Note that this fic will contain sensitive subjects later on, though I don't want to spoil anything for you :) Let me know if there are any mistakes here please, I'd like to be able to fix them. If you have any questions, feel free to pm me or put them in a wonderful review because I read each and every one of them. Reviews are love guys, so please leave me some :'( Who knows, maybe if I get enough I'll post the next chapter early!_**

**_I really love this story, it's the longest I'll have ever written by the time I finish the chapter I'm currently working on which is much later in the story. This is my baby, treat it well ;)_**

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_November 23rd_

* * *

He's nervous; his first day of school. He spent hours poring over his clothes the night before in an effort to decide what to wear. It hadn't worked, he'd ended up just throwing on the first things he could find and running gel coated fingers through his hair to spike it up. He'd left out the makeup, not sure how this school would react and not wanting to get beat up on his first day there.

He drops his bag in his locker and notes a few guys wrestling with each other down the hall, their laughs echoing all around. He memorizes their most defining characteristics and makes a mental note to avoid them when possible.

By the time the warning bell rings for first period he's sweating, the nerves running through his entire body. It's odd, he thinks, he's never really been all that nervous before. He'd been the one to strut into school wearing rainbow leather pants with bright pink hair just because he could. It's a new feeling for him and it's one he can't say he's very fond of. Still, he tries to look nonchalant as he heads into his new English class. The teacher greets him, introduces him to the class, and tells him to go sit next to the dark shape in the back corner. Magnus prays no one notices how he's shaking but it seems his prayers were for nothing when he sees the tiny smirk on his new desk buddy's face.

He hesitates for a second before he sits down because he's noticed that the boy beside him is fairly attractive. He opens his mouth as he slides his chair closer to the desk but he's also now noticed that the boy isn't paying attention to him anymore. Instead, he's doodling in a navy blue notebook as the teacher drones on in the background. Magnus turns back to the front of the class and starts copying down the note on the board.

The class passes in silence.

* * *

The rest of day goes by normally for the most part; he makes conversation with a redheaded girl named Clary in his Art class, finds someone to sit with at lunch in his Anthro class. Before he knows it, lunch has crept up on him and he makes his way over to Ragnor and Camille's lockers, following the directions he'd been told. Camille smiles, Ragnor offers a nod, and they set off to find somewhere relatively unoccupied to eat their lunch.

Magnus decides he's got the friends he wants right here; it's easy and fun and they seem like good people.

It's when he's making his way back to his locker to grab his gym clothes that he sees the boy from his English class again. He's sitting near the end of the hall with a blond boy Magnus doesn't know, nodding along to whatever his friend is saying. He can make out Clary sitting in front of the blonde one, a raven-haired girl beside her to close in the circle. It's odd, Magnus notices, that while the boy's friends are all laughing and having a good time he hasn't even cracked a smile. There's not even a flicker of amusement in his blue eyes as he takes in his friends, just a cold detachment like he doesn't even register that he _should_ be having fun.

Magnus shakes his head and goes back to stuffing things in his bag so he can actually find his gym bag in the mess. He snags it the second he sees the bright orange sticking out from under the rest of his things and closes his locker with a clang. He throws the lock on as fast as he can when the warning bell for fourth period goes and turns to run down the hall, noting that the blue-eyed boy and his friends are no longer there.

* * *

Magnus spends the journey to the gym cursing the fact that he had to come on the one day a week there's a double because he's already out of breath by the time he reaches the change rooms. How is he supposed to survive _two whole hours _of gym class? Pushing the door open, he stumbles into the changeroom and nearly collides with the door behind the first one. Why the hell are there two doors? Sighing, he shoves the second door open as well and is finally met with the sight of wooden benches and metal hooks. He throws his stuff onto a mostly unoccupied one and yanks out his gym clothes.

It's while he's pulling his gym shirt down over his head that the owner of the black bag at the end of the bench decides to make an appearance and scare the shit out of Magnus. He jumps, an insult on the tip of his tongue before he finds himself rearing back in a different kind of shock because it's _him. _The guy from his English class. And ok wow, why is this guy suddenly _him_? The blue-eyed boy just raises an eyebrow and then turns to back to where he'd started shoving his binder into his bag.

Dodge-ball ends up being the warm-up and Magnus' team loses all three times they play. It may or may not have had something to do with the fact that he couldn't stop staring at the raven-haired boy on the bench. It's strange that he isn't playing, stranger still that the teacher doesn't even bat an eye at it. The boy sits on the bench the whole first hour right up until the bell rings to signal their ten minute break. Magnus frowns but decides to just ignore it.

It's when the second hour of the class starts that the curiosity grips him like a vice, urging him to approach the other boy while he's out of the game. He plops down beside him and throws him a smile, unsure what to say. Magnus is met by narrowed blue eyes and questioning eyebrows so he sticks out his hand.

"I'm Magnus, we sit beside each other in English." The boy seems to consider the offered hand for a second before taking it in a surprisingly gentle grasp.

"Alec," he says, a half smile dancing across his lips.

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_**Next chapter will be Saturday if I don't get enough reviews to post early. I won't give a number yet, because I don't know how popular this story will be though I'm hoping you'll all love it as much as I do :)**_


	2. And We Hear

**_I was so excited about the response I got to this story that I just _****had ****_to post the next chapter. Thank you so much for all of the follows, favorites and reviews on this, guys. It means the world to me :) I figured since I have like a hundred (6) chapter buffer on this, I could post early anyways. Especially considering that's what I got done in one night :) Anyways, I hope you enjoy this and please, please, please let me know what you think about it._**

**_Also if anyone wants to help me with the summary for this I would love you forever. I can't write summaries that actually tell you what the story's about._**

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_December 4th_

* * *

He shoves his winter coat into his locker and slams it shut with more force than necessary, wrestling with the lock for a good minute before it finally closes. The warning bell rings during the time it takes him to pick up his notebook from where he'd dropped it on the floor and he takes off running down the hall because he's on the other side of the school from where he needs to be. He makes it through the door just a second before the actual bell goes off and thanks God he made it; another late and he'd be stuck with detention. Smiling at his small victory, Magnus makes his way to the far corner of the class and dumps his stuff down on his desk, throwing himself into his chair with an exaggerated huff. Beside him, Alec rolls his eyes but doesn't look up from where he's doodling in his notebook like always. The teacher glares at him silently.

The lesson is something to do with poetry, but he's too busy trying to annoy a reaction out of Alec to pay any attention. It takes almost half the class before his friend finally throws his pencil down with a groan and turns to glare at him.

"What?" he barks out as Magnus grins at him. This time it's Magnus who rolls his eyes.

"You've been ignoring me," he tells his friend, pouting. Alec gives up glaring at him and instead just turns back to his latest doodle with an annoyed sound.

"You're annoying," he mutters. Magnus, ever the dramatic, clasps a hand over his heart, spouting about being wounded. He feels like he's won the lottery when a hint of a smile shows on the other boy's face but the feeling doesn't last long. In the month he's known him, Magnus has never once seen Alec smile. The closest he'd come had been when they first spoke and that had been miles away from a real smile. He sighs, wishing his friend wasn't so closed off.

It does about as much good as wishing on a falling star.

* * *

He manages to get his locker closed easily for once, not having to rearrange things so they don't topple out, but then his stupid lock decides it hates him and won't close. He's too busy cursing his broken lock to notice the amusement in dark blue eyes before Alec reaches around him and snaps the lock shut with a click. Magnus isn't jealous. He's not. By the time he turns his glare from the offending object to the other boy, the amusement's gone and once again he's met with a cold detachment.

"Where do you want to eat?" he asks. Alec shrugs and pushes off of the lockers he'd been leaning against. They start walking, no destination in mind as they go. They pass Alec's friends on the way, seated in their usual spot and the blue eyes barely shift in their direction. Magnus notices the dark-haired girl frown at them, looking like she wants to say something but thinking better of it. He frowns back at her.

They end up in one of the less frequented stairwells, pressed into the corner to avoid being hit by the door if it does open. The conversation is small, meaningless, between them but Magnus has come to realize that that's all he's really going to get out of Alec. It's this knowledge that keeps him from asking about his lack of a meal every day, or his not participating in gym class.

He's come to realize that Alec is just an enigma wrapped up in a mystery he'll probably never be able to solve no matter how badly he wants to. He tries still, picking out all of the little clues he can; the teachers never caring when he doesn't get things done, no one saying anything as he sits on the bench in gym class, the way no one seems to want to approach him. It's odd, how everyone avoids him like they just know there's no point in even talking to him. Alec doesn't ever appear to be bothered by it though, in fact he seems to appreciate the solitude.

So instead of asking the million questions he has, he makes small talk about their shared classes and pretends he's not desperately trying to get a smile from the other boy.

* * *

He dumps his bag on top of Ragnor's on the dark red armchair in the corner of Camille's room and then flails around for a minute trying to get his winter coat off. Camille laughs at him, already curled up on her bed with a bottle of violet nail polish. He glares at her halfheartedly as he flops down beside her and ignores the faces Ragnor makes at them, fishing through the polish on the bed for the blue he wants.

He likes this, how easy it is with them. He remembers his others schools where he wasn't so lucky to find good friends so fast. There's no awkwardness here, like the three of them have been best friends since they could walk. There's no pressure to say the right thing, to act the right way. Good friends are hard to come by, and he's grateful that he has.

"Hey, Magnus, we didn't see you at lunch again today," she says it like a statement but the underlying question is clearly there. He catches Ragnor's eye roll out of the corner of his eye.

"Yeah, I was with Alec," he replies nonchalantly, not looking up from where he's currently painting his toes a deep blue. That doesn't mean he misses the shocked looks they both give him. He gets it, Alec is this ethereal being no one ever has any contact with outside of the four people who seem to flock around him. He's that guy that everyone knows, but no one _knows_.

"Alec? Are you serious?" He catches a note of concern in her voice that makes him look up at her, frowning.

"Yes, I am. Why?" He's narrowed his eyes at them now, not liking the way they seem to be looking at Alec as a bad thing. Camille glances over at Ragnor, matching looks of worry written across their faces and Magnus starts glaring at them. "_Why?_" he repeats with more force.

"He's— Just, Magnus? Be careful, okay?" and then she goes back to painting her toenails, effectively ending the conversation. Magnus just stares at her in confusion for a second before he too goes back to his nails, the words sitting uncomfortably in his mind.

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**_Follow, Favorite, Review and maybe the next chapter will also be early, who knows ;)_**


	3. And We Glimpse

**_Oh my God is that another chapter? Why yes, it is. So glad you noticed. Now, as you know I have an awesome buffer on this story (4 chapters) which means I wrote this like last week. I honestly hadn't intended for the entire chapter to be this one scene but it fit, was important, and really was all that I wanted to happen on this day. So yep, I'm happy with this and I love it so I hope you do too. Thank you so much everyone who reviewed, followed and favourited! I'd like to thank the guests who reviewed because I couldn't reply to them :'( Let me know what you think guys!_**

* * *

_March 12th_

* * *

Red painted nails curl around the side of his open locker before pushing it mostly closed and when he looks up, Magnus is met with the dark-haired girl he sees Alec with when they're not together. He frowns into her brown eyes questioningly as she seems to consider him for a moment.

"I notice you've been spending a lot of time with my brother lately," she says carefully. Magnus' frown deepens at that. Her brother? He looks her over again before it dawns on him that she must mean Alec. She looks like the female version of him, the only difference being their eyes.

"You mean Alec?" he asks just to be sure and she nods, looking him up and down again with pursed lips.

"So, how do you two know each other?" she asks then and he's beginning to see why she's suddenly come to talk to him. Alec doesn't get involved with others, so she's trying to figure out why Magnus has become the exception. He almost smiles at her protectiveness of her brother, knowing she's also trying to figure out if he's a good enough person to be around Alec. He thinks it's a tad excessive, it's not like they're going out or even that close really, but oddity seems to run in the Lightwood family so he'll let it go.

"We had two classes together first semester," he replies just as carefully as she'd asked the question in the first place. He doesn't quite know the relevance of this if she is doing what he thinks she is but he's not going to question her.

"Do you? Which two?" Her eyes are narrowed now as they continue to examine him from every possible angle they can find. He just smiles at her politely and tells her English and Gym. The narrowed eyes seem to examine him even more minutely at the mention of gym and he knows why. He'd had gym with Alec for two months and hadn't once seen him off the bench.

He'd never asked anyone about it, getting the feeling that even if he did he wouldn't get an answer. No one seems to know anything about Alec except that he's a Lightwood and hangs out with Jace, the rugby team captain. Well that, and everyone also knows that no one knows anything about him.

"And now we just have French together," he adds after a few moments of her just staring at him. He's never been so intimidated by someone before and he's pretty sure she's at least a year younger than him too. She appears to be absolutely nothing like Alec except in looks. She seems to have gotten what she wanted though, thank God, because she suddenly brightens, a friendly smile lighting up her features.

"Well, that's nice. I'm Isabelle, by the way," she tells him, stretching out a hand for him to shake. He recognizes the name from Clary, talking about her fashionista best friend going out with her nerd best friend and it makes him warm up to her a little more. He accepts her hand with a smile, glad that the intimidating part of their conversation is over.

"I'm Magnus, nice to meet you." She grins back at him, mischief dancing behind her warm brown eyes. He can already tell she's going to mean trouble at some point.

"Oh, I know." Noting his confused expression she tacks on, "Alec told me about you," and he fights back the urge to interrogate her about what he'd said. It's not really Magnus' business and he doesn't need her thinking he's that desperate.

"Did he now? Not all that shocking, really. I am much too fabulous not to be the topic of conversation," he tells her with a playful grin and her laugh is real and honest in response. He wonders if it's anything like Alec's, which he still has yet to hear.

"No, I suppose not. I'm kind of surprised he hangs out with you, actually. No offense, but you seem a little too _out_ for him to be comfortable hanging around." And Magnus nearly chokes on absolutely nothing.

"Alec's gay?!" he practically squeals in surprise. Either that's what she'd meant or Alec is actually homophobic, which Magnus deems even less possible than the first option. Now that he thinks about it though, it does fit Alec. He's certainly never expressed any interest in _girls_ before.

Isabelle has the decency to look mildly guilty as she says, "Oh, you didn't know? I thought you two were—" She doesn't need to say anymore, he knows what she's implying and this time he really does choke on absolutely nothing because _in his dreams_.

"Um, yeah, no. No, just— just friends," he manages to force out once he's regained the ability to speak. Isabelle narrows her eyes at him again and then her face twists into a smirk, the same mischief as before dancing in her eyes.

"But you wish you were, right?" she says cheekily and he freezes, because yes he does like him and suddenly he has a sliver of a chance with Alec because at least he likes guys. And well, maybe it's a little more than like but he's not ready to delve any deeper into that.

"Don't tell him, please," he asks her softly, chewing on his bottom lip. The smirk fades to a gentle smile and she rests her hand on his arm.

"I won't, but I really think _you_ should," she tells him gently and he frowns at her for a second before telling her he'll think about it. She nods, content with that, and he decides that he likes Isabelle. She's the kind of person he can see himself being friends with. So he grins at her, cracks a joke and she teases him back and they laugh their way through the wellness break.

He wonders how Alec is the way he is when he's surrounded by people like her.

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_**Review, follow, favourite = love. Next chapter will probably be tomorrow if I'm happy with the response I get to this one :)**_


	4. And We Try

**_Hey guys,next chapter just like I promised! My computer broke last night, actually it self-destructed. I almost had a panic attack and then when I woke up it was suddenly fixed so yay! Anyways, good thing I wrote this in google docs so I can't lose any of it :)_**

**_The french in this chapter is basically the teacher telling Magnus to pay attention and then Magnus being like 'sorry, I'm tired'. There will be more french in this story because I speak it fluently, it's my second language :)_**

**_Thanks for all the reviews, follows and faves guys, they make my day XD_**

* * *

_May 15th_

* * *

He collapses against his friend's locker with a dramatic huff and watches in satisfaction as amusement dances in the eyes that roll at him. Alec then proceeds to ignore him as he rearranges books in his locker to find the one he's looking for. Magnus grins at him, smirking as he reaches in and plucks out the one the other boy wants with barely a glance. Alec might be able to get Magnus' lock to work effortlessly but Magnus can find things in the chaos that is Alec's locker just as easily. They're on even ground here.

Alec blinks at the book before snatching it from his hand with a halfhearted glare and a small shake of his head. He slams his locker shut, throws the lock on, and smirks when Magnus finds his turn to glare. So maybe he's still jealous. So what?

He trails after Alec as he heads towards their French class, taking in the view from behind with appreciative eyes. It's times like these where he thinks, _maybe_. Times like these where he thinks, _what if_. Where he wonders if it's possible. He likes to pretend it is, likes to pretend sometimes that it's already happened. He knows it's not healthy, thinks that maybe he's betraying Alec's trust in him for thinking like this, but he can't help it. He knows this isn't a crush, that it's not just going to disappear.

He also knows it will almost definitely never happen, but he doesn't care. He's content with this, and as much as he might wish for more he knows this is good. He lives for the little bit he does get because it's enough. He could spend the rest of his life with just this small piece and he'd be okay.

Sometimes though, he finds himself opening his mouth to tell Alec before he realizes what he's doing. It'd be so easy, just three little words, and he knows Alec would get it, would know the context he's using those words in. And it's hard, not to say something, not to reach for his hand or run his fingers through those dark locks that always seem to want to hide those beautiful blue eyes. It's hard to be his friend, when he wants so much more, but he knows it'd be harder not to be because at least this is close. At least this way he can still stand beside him and grab his arm or tap his shoulder. It may not be much, but he'll take what he can get.

* * *

"Magnus, j'e veux que tu fais attention à cette leçon, s'il te plaît." He snaps out of the Alec-induced trance he hadn't even realized he was in to give the teacher a sheepish grin.

"Je m'excuse, madame. Je suis vraiment fatigué aujourd'hui," he tells her and she rolls her eyes at him but goes back to teaching the lesson without another comment. He sighs, slumping down onto the desk with his head in his arms. He stares at Alec for a second, scribbling in the same blue notebook as always. Magnus wonders what he's drawing. He's never been allowed to see, always been warded off with a glare and the shifting of the notebook away from him.

Alec isn't in Art, Magnus would have heard him brought up at some point in his Art class last semester. Actually, other than the essential classes and the fact that he's not in art, Magnus knows nothing about Alec's classes. In fact, he doesn't really know anything about Alec other than his personality. It's strange, that all he knows about this boy he's been hanging out with for months is that he has a sister, hangs out with the popular crowd, doesn't get involved with anyone else and seems to enjoy drawing, though just as a habit. It's odd, but Magnus chooses not to make a big deal about it. Alec probably just doesn't think it's all that important.

Yeah, that must be it.

* * *

Sometimes he thinks he should really worry about Alec, thinks that Alec doesn't tell him anything because it's not good. He knows there's more to Alec than what he could possibly understand and sometimes he thinks that that more is bad, so awful it can't even be said. It's the times when he notices that it's spring already, summer fast approaching, and Alec is still in long sleeves, times he wonders why Alec never seems to eat anything. It's the times he'll be talking to the other boy only to notice Alec isn't paying attention, a cold detachment in his eyes. It's the times he notices Alec isn't okay that send him into a frenzied state of worry.

He tries to figure it out on his own, tries to piece the billion little clues together, but he can't. He doesn't have enough of them, doesn't understand the ones he does have. It's frustrating, knowing there is something so obviously wrong and not being able to do anything to fix it. He doesn't even know what it is.

So he sends subtle hints to his friend that he's there, that he's listening, that he can help if only he knew what was wrong. It doesn't help, Alec either oblivious to it or pointedly ignoring it. He sends subtle hints to Isabelle, whom he now spends Friday nights with, to tell him, to let him into their world. That doesn't work either, though he at least knows she gets the hints because she just shakes her head and gives him a small, sad smile every time. He can see in her eyes that it's bad, whatever it is and also that while she may know infinitely more than him, even she doesn't know most of it.

He gets it, Alec is Alec and that's just the way things are. He wishes it wasn't.

* * *

**_Review, follow, fave and the next chapter might be early. Maybe. Depends on if I finish the chapter I'm currently writing._**


	5. And We Hold

**_Hey guys, new update! I feel like I've been waiting forever (three weeks) to post this one! Personally, this is my favorite so far :) It's also at least twice as long as the other chapters so yay! Honestly I hadn't intended for it to be so long but then the last two scenes just kind of happened and I was like OH MY GOD this is good. I don't plan this guys, I just sit down at my computer and write. I mean, obviously I know what's up with Alec and approximately how far into their lives this story will go (at least I know the minimum) but I'm not like "and in this chapter Magnus and Isabelle are going to talk for the whole freaking thing (oops) and in this one Camille and Ragnor are going to warn Magnus about Alec in a really cryptic way (no oops there, that was totally intentional- _not_ -)" So yeah, that's me. Also, sorry for not replying to the reviews this time; I didn't have as much as time as I'd have liked and then I couldn't remember if I'd replied to some or not so yeah. All reviews, follows and faves are super appreciated though, I mean it. They're love, guys ;)_**

**_But seriously, my favorite chapter right here, like of all time._**

* * *

_June 20th_

* * *

He glances over at Alec, seated beside him and concentrating intensely on the exam in front of him. He sighs, knowing already he'll do at best half as well as his friend. Written French is so not his forte. Flipping the page, he stares down at it for a minute before deciding he'll be lucky to do a quarter as well as Alec. Is that even a question there? And what the hell does that one mean? How is he supposed to write a page long essay on that? Groaning, he decides to just scribble down some vague form of an answer, full of wit and intelligence so he might get points for making it interesting. It's worth a shot.

Finally the hour he's required to spend on it is over and he launches out of his seat faster than he thought possible, even though he hasn't finished the exam. He'll probably score better if he doesn't anyway. Alec glances up at him with raised eyebrows as he calmly pushes his chair back and stands, nothing like Magnus had done. Magnus flashes his friend a sheepish grin and then careens towards the door, knowing he'll follow him eventually. He doesn't miss the eye roll meant just for him.

He spends the walk to his locker moaning about the exam while Alec has the decency to look only mildly amused. He spends the time at his locker glaring at his friend while Alec smirks at his inability to use his own lock. And then he spends the walk to their usual stairwell checking out the other boy's ass while Alec remains blissfully oblivious.

All in all, it's a fairly average day for him.

* * *

Isabelle raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him as he sighs for the tenth time in the past five minutes. Annoyed, she tosses her nail fine aside with a huff and turns her full attention to her new fashion friend.

"What, Magnus?" she snaps at him and he looks up at from his sprawled out position on the end of his bed. He appears somewhat startled but recovers quickly.

"What do you mean?" he asks carefully, the way he always has to around her. She narrows her eyes at him, even more suspicious now. He's been acting weird all night, distant and distracted as they'd poured over fashion magazines together. It's not like him and she's almost worried by now.

"I mean that's the tenth time you've sighed in the past, like, five minutes. _What_ has got your panties in such a twist?" She catches a look in his eyes that tells her he'd considered lying to her for a moment but had soon thought better of it. Good, she thinks, she'd kill him if he tried.

He hesitates before asking, "Should I be worried about Alec?" She knows she softens at that. He's already worried, she knows, and her answer won't really change that. She wishes for a moment she could just tell him everything, let this boy who cares so much for her brother into their awful, fucked up world. She can't, she knows, because Alec is the gatekeeper here and he's the one who gets to invite people in, though all he ever does is shut them out.

It makes her want to cry at the injustice of it all because she can see this boy, Magnus, making her brother happy. She knows he would, knows that he'd be able to see the parts of Alec she's been turned away from. She wishes Alec would open the doors for once to let Magnus in because she thinks maybe Magnus could fix the broken world behind them so there'd be no need to have them at all. But Alec won't, she knows, and she can't make him because he's the gatekeeper and she's nothing but a stray cat who'd managed to weasel it's way past the first set of doors only to be met by another, sealed shut with iron bars and chains and padlocks so no one could get past them.

Instead she says softly, "Yeah, you should be."

* * *

He stares at the flashing green numbers on the alarm clock, absently wondering where the time went. He remembers the numbers had been 10:12 when he'd collapsed onto the bed and he can't understand why they're now proudly displaying 3:48. He'd been thinking about Alec, not an unusual occurrence, with Isabelle's words echoing in his head. There'd been a kind of sad desperation in her eyes when she'd said them, softer than anything he'd ever heard her say.

He stares at the clock a while longer before deciding he won't be getting any sleep tonight and heading towards the kitchen instead. He makes himself tea, some cereal and then sits himself down on the kitchen counter to eat it. He feels dead, exhaustion trying to push him to the ground for a nice little nap. He knows he won't get any sleep though, no matter how tired he is. Thank god it's the weekend now.

His phone buzzes in his back pocket and he nearly goes tumbling off the counter to the ground before he manages to catch himself, pulling the device out of his back pocket as he does. He's shocked to see it's from Alec, and notes that it's only just after four in the morning. Alec isn't a huge texter, or anything really involving a phone. Magnus has learned by now not to expect a reply within the hour because chances are it will take at least three. He frowns slightly as he swipes his thumb across the screen. The text is short, simple, and does nothing to aid his confusion.

_Are you awake?_ He has to think much harder than usual on how to reply, courtesy of his sleep-addled brain.

_No, which is exactly how I'm replying to u. _He realizes after he hits the send button that it comes off kind of rude and doesn't make as much sense as it did in his head.

_Right, sorry._ His frown deepens and he stares at the message for longer than necessary, trying to read between non-existent lines.

_Not that I mind but u usually don't text like ever especially not this late. _So maybe he's not at his finest when he's been awake for the past twenty-two hours.

_Yeah but I couldn't sleep and I thought if you couldn't either then you'd want some company. _A half smile forms on his face as he reads it.

_U thought right ;)_

_Hey, do you want to meet up? _He's taken aback, checking the time again and then glancing around before he looks back at his phone, just to make sure his exhaustion hasn't led him to hallucinating. Sure enough, it's still there when he goes back to his phone and the half smile on his face stretches into a grin.

_Of course, where? Oooh we should go around putting fish in people's houses and then break into seaworld. _He receives a reply to this one in record time, for Alec at least.

_This isn't a John Green book Magnus. _He's definitely grinning now, falling even more for the other boy for understanding the reference.

_Just look at all those paper people living in their paper houses_

_All those paper kids drinking beer some bum bought for them at a paper convenience store. _He laughs softly, not having expected Alec to play along.

_All the things paper-thin and paper-frail ;) _He can picture Alec rolling his eyes at the winky face and the grin stretches even wider as he sighs dreamily.

_Where do you want to meet up? _He pauses, thinking.

_There's a park near your house, right? How bout there?_

_You know where my house is? _Magnus stops then, pursing his lips. He does know where Alec's house is, despite not ever having been. He'd driven Isabelle home from a fair number of parties and picked her up just as often. He wishes he'd actually been over, that Alec had invited him, but he hadn't. Alec seems to want nothing to with other people outside of school, which is why him wanting to meet up tonight came as such a shock.

_Driven Iz home from parties, ya, _he decides is a good reply. It answers the question at least.

_Oh right, k see you in ten_

_C u darling. _Magnus doesn't check his reflection twice or rush out the door as fast as he can. He doesn't, really.

Well, maybe a little.

* * *

He's barely been standing at the entrance to the park for two minutes when he see Alec approaching. He's in his pajamas still, same as him and looks just as exhausted as Magnus feels. Still, Magnus grins at him as he comes closer and delights in the the small smile he gets in return.

They start walking then, and though he doesn't know who started it, there's a steady conversation flowing between them about nothing of importance. These are the moments Magnus lives for, just being beside Alec, mindless talk filling the empty space between them. It's so blissfully easy and simple, the way it never has been before with anybody else. It's real, no thought going into their words so they come out just right, no pretending and falseness and it's one of the things that make him feel so strongly towards the other boy. It's a rare moment where he isn't thinking about what Alec's not telling him because whatever's wrong is gone in that moment. It's just them and with this, with just this Magnus could spend the rest of his life happy, never needing anything more.

Alec suddenly stops, and Magnus turns around from where's he's gotten ahead of his friend to stare at him in question. He's stopped right in the pool of light coming from one of the many streetlamps lining the path so Magnus can see the wary, unsure expression that's now twisting across his features. He's slumped, hands in the pockets of his sleep pants and he's not looking at Magnus, gaze flitting across the expanse of grass stretching on beside them.

"Alec?" he asks cautiously. His friend turns towards him again, opening his mouth before closing it again like he's not quite sure what to say. He just looks at Magnus for a second.

"I'm sorry," he says softly. Magnus is taken aback, confusion stretching across his face as he tries to make sense of his words. He doesn't understand.

"For what?" Alec is looking away from him again and he can see that his hands are pulling at the fabric inside his pockets.

"I just—I'm sorry." Magnus still doesn't quite understand but he knows that's all he's going to get. He smiles softly at his friend as he moves towards him, resting a hand on his shoulder. Alec glances up at him, meeting his eyes and Magnus tries to keep from drowning in that beautiful blue.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" he says, forcing the desperation away from his vocal chords. He's trying again to get Alec to tell him what's wrong, though he knows he won't. He has to keep trying, he won't give up on this incredible, broken boy in front of him.

"I know, I wish—" he cuts himself off, biting his bottom lip, as he looks into Magnus' eyes. There's the same kind of sad desperation in his eyes as there had been in his sister's earlier that night though it's a million times worse. It makes Magnus want to cry.

He sighs, moving his hand to caress Alec's cheek softly, his eyes tracking the movement. If only, he thinks. If only he'd let him in. If only they were _together _together. Things would be different then.

There's a second where they just stare at each other before Alec leans up and presses their lips together.

Magnus is stunned, not expecting it but he doesn't hesitate, eyes slipping shut as he slides his lips against Alec's in return. He doesn't press any harder than the soft, gentleness Alec started with, doesn't move his hand from the other boy's cheek. There's no explosion of passion, no fireworks or giddy joy. There's no hands tangling in each other's hair, no arms slipping around their waists.

There's just their lips, Alec's wet tears sliding down both their cheeks and Magnus' muffled sigh.

* * *

_**Review, follow, fave please :)**_


	6. And We Know

**_So here's the next chapter guys! Can't say I'm as happy with this one as I am with the last though. Alwell, I hope you like it :) It's not what all of you seemed to be expecting, though ;) I loved all the great reviews I got on the last chapter, keep them coming XD Also the french in this chapter is basically them introducing themselves to the class._**

**_And my amazing sister is now my beta! So earlier chapters are in the process of being edited right now :) She hasn't had a chance to read this one yet though but hopefully she'll get to the next ones before I post them._**

* * *

_September 3rd_

* * *

He wakes up with a headache, the pieces of sun spilling through his curtains feeling like a thousand volts of electricity straight to his eyes. He groans and presses further into the warmth underneath him. It shifts, pale arms wrapping more securely around him.

"Magnus, we should probably get up now. We have school," he says and Magnus mumbles incoherently back at him, sleep language for screw off. He can basically feel the other roll his eyes at his antiques.

There's a long-suffering sigh and then he's being shoved off the bed and onto the lush carpet floor below. He glares daggers at the figure still laying on the bed as he pulls himself to his feet. Groaning, he rubs a hand over his eyes and heads off to the bathroom to take a steaming hot shower.

When he comes out, he finds Ragnor seated at the kitchen counter and munching on a bowl of Lucky Charms. Magnus throws his wet towel in his friend's face to show him just how appreciative he is of the wake up he received. The other boy just catches it, tosses it over his shoulder and offers him a cheeky grin. Magnus continues to glare.

They're late to school, having to pick up their schedules and track down their new lockers before navigating the endless halls to find their classes. This means, naturally, that Magnus' teacher decides Magnus wants to share his life's story with everyone. Tossing her a blinding smile and a witty retort, he breezes past her and finds a seat in the back corner, just in case his friend is in this class and hasn't shown up yet.

Maybe it's strange, he thinks, the way that he's so easily come to incorporate Alec into his routine. He does it unconsciously, no thought whatsoever put into shaping his life to encompass Alec. It's a scary thing, really. They only met less than a year ago and he barely knows a thing about the other boy. It's not healthy and he knows that. He knows you can't shape your life around someone else; it won't end well and it's not fair to either of you. He can't see it as a bad thing though because Alec is Alec and that's just how things are.

* * *

"Alors, pour commencer, j'aimerais qu'on fait des introductions. Je sais, je sais, vous vous connaissez déjà. Fait le quand même pour moi. Commencez pour nous Alec, s'il vous plaît." Magnus glances at his friend from the corner of his eye at that because Alec wasn't even called on once last year. The other boy just glances up from his notebook and looks the teacher over for a second.

"Je suis Alec, et j'ai dix-sept ans," he says and Magnus finds himself gawking at him because he _spoke _and _in french _and he should probably not find that as attractive as he does. Alec raises an eyebrow at him and he just shakes his head, realizing it's his turn.

"Moi, je suis Magnus. J'en ai dix-sept aussi et je suis le plus magnifique que vous allez jamais connaître," he tells the teacher with a smirk and the class gives a chorus of laughter. He catches sight of a half smile on Alec's face from the corner of his eye.

He grins back, thinking that maybe senior year will be different than the one before.

* * *

He breezes through Art making small talk with Clary and coasts through lunch giggling with Camille and Ragnor. He hasn't seen Alec since French class, couldn't find him at the start of lunch, but he's learned that it's best just to go with the flow when it comes to his friend. Nothing's really changed, when he thinks about it, even though it's a new year with new classes and new kids and new opportunities.

He's still going to the party Friday night with Isabelle, just like usual. He's still spending Art with the same naive little redhead as before. He's still pining after a best friend he knows nothing about. He's still hanging out with Ragnor and Camille and they're still trying to warn him away from Alec. It's all uneventfully the same.

He still doesn't know anything about Alec. He knows _Alec, _his personality and the way he reacts to things but he doesn't _know _Alec. It bothers him, how his best friend never tells him anything about himself, but he can't do anything. He has no one left to ask but Alec and he already knows he won't get any answers from him.

He tries not to take notice of every little thing involving Alec because he knows it's probably not his business and playing detective never ends well. He tries not to pick his friend's actions apart and piece them back together; Alec isn't a machine for Magnus to try to figure out how it works.

He tries not to. He does anyways.

* * *

"Hey, you want to come over tomorrow? Like, after school?" Alec glances up at him from the dark blue notebook he's been doodling in for the past twenty minutes of English class. He looks at him thoughtfully for a second, glancing down at the notebook and then back to Magnus.

"Yeah, sure. For how long?" he says and Magnus tries not to grin. They'd never hung out outside of school before, other than the night in the park. The grin turns into a frown at that thought. The night in the park feels like it was ages ago, to him. It's a distant memory he sometimes has trouble believing to be real. Neither had spoken a word about it, not even shared a look that might have hinted at it. Then again, all they'd done was text over the summer, not even meeting up once.

That night hadn't changed anything. They hadn't suddenly professed their undying love for each other and then rode off into the sunset to live happily ever after. They aren't together. Their relationship hasn't changed a single bit. In fact, the only thing different now is that Magnus is even more concerned about his friend than before because he _knows _there's something wrong but he just can't do anything about it.

He knows he should.

* * *

_**Thank you for reading, hope you liked it :) Follow, Favourite, and Review!**_


	7. And We See

**_A new chapter so soon? Why, yes it is! Longest one yet, too. When I wrote this the first time it was only like 900 words but I really didn't like it so I re-wrote it and somehow bam! 3,000+ words! Oops. Alwell, I like long chapters :) Also if anyone would like to write me a better summary for this that would be very awesome XD No guaranties I'd use it, as it might contradict something that's going to happen but I'm hoping I'll be able to._**

**_Someone asked for a translation of the french in the last chapter so here you go (note that it sounds much cooler in french): _**

**_Teacher- "So, to start I'd like to do some introductions. i know, I know, you know eachother already. Do it anyways, for me. Alec, please start us off."_**

**_Alec- "I'm Alec and I'm seventeen years old."_**

**_Magnus- "Me, I'm Magnus. I'm seventeen as well and I'm the most magnificent person you'll ever know."_**

**_Also, I didn't mention a movie name as I know if I did there would be people who would agree and disagree with my choice. I've left it open for the reader to decide what they're watching :) _**

**_Reviews and follows and faves are awesome guys and make me write faster, just so you know ;) Hope you enjoy this chapter!_**

* * *

_September 4th_

* * *

Magnus is pacing by the time the clock turns to five. He wrings his hands over and over, eyes raking across his flat for anything out of place. He knows it's irrational, the nervousness, because Alec really won't care about how neat the place is but he can't shake the feeling. He wants so badly for this to go right, just this once, because nothing involving Alec ever does. He wants this to be perfect so that maybe he'll have a chance of learning just a little bit more about the secretive boy he's found himself in love with. Maybe he's too desperate, though. Maybe it's showing, how badly he _needs _to know Alec, and that's why he still hasn't let him in. Maybe he's scaring him off.

No, he thinks. That's not why he's still being shut out. It's because of something Magnus can't quite figure out, can't even grasp the basis of. It's because of some dark part of Alec that's forced it's way to the front and that keeps him from opening up to anyone. It's partially fear, Magnus knows, but there's something more to it. He thinks maybe Alec had let someone in before and that it hadn't been the right person.

He decides he doesn't like this train of thought, one he finds himself caught up in all too often, because it hurts to think he's being shut out by someone he cares so much about. He decides to distract himself with making his bed, the only part of his flat left untouched. He's successful in the distraction part of that plan, though less so in the making of the bed as somehow he ends up with the comforter sideways and the wrong way up, the pillows sinking in between the mattress and the headboard. Groaning, he pulls it all off the bed and throws it on the floor before shoving the mattress back so the pillows won't fall down again.

Once he's finally managed to get his bed somewhat nice and neat looking, it's past five-thirty and now there's really nothing left to do but pace and over think things. So naturally, by the time he can see headlights flashing across the building as a car pulls into the parking lot he's worked himself up into a frenzied state of worry and panic and fear.

The buzzer goes off, overly loud in the silence of his flat and he does _not _trip in his haste to get over to it. He knows it's Alec, just on time like he'd expected. He sucks in a breath to try to calm his racing heart and presses the button, forcing his voice to remain calm and cool.

"Who is it?" he asks, though he already knows the answer. It's polite, he figures, and he's always been taught never to just assume things. That's probably why Alec's unwillingness to share anything with him is getting to him so much. He's desperate for some kind of knowledge of Alec, even if it's wrong, but he can't just go with his gut because _assumptions_.

"Obviously Alec, unless you were expecting someone else?" he can hear the mild bemusement in his friend's voice and makes a small effort not to grin like a maniac. It's progress, hearing some kind of emotion in Alec's voice that isn't annoyance or the sad kind of sorryness from the night in the park.

"Alec? Alec who?"

"Oh, haha. Very funny, Magnus. You're hilarious. Really," comes the reply and he can hear the sarcasm dripping from his voice. Laughing, he presses the button to unlock the downstairs door so Alec can come up. It's hard, trying not to let his mind wander and work him into a frenzy again as he waits for the inevitable knock on the door to come. Why is he so_ slow_?

When the door is finally flung open to reveal dark hair and blue eyes Magnus has to remind himself that yes, breathing is a necessity. Alec doesn't really look any different than usual, wearing baggy, well-worn clothes with scuffed, faded sneakers and messy hair. It's something Magnus has always loved and hated about Alec; hating that he hides himself like that and loving that he doesn't try to flaunt himself for the sake of others. Still, it's not really the way he looks that takes his breath away, it's more the fact that Alec is actually there in front of him. Other than the night in the park they've never met up outside of school before and it hits him suddenly that this is _progress_. He's _getting somewhere_.

"You going to just stand there and stare at me all day or actually let me in?" Alec asks with a raised eyebrow and a half smirk. Magnus rolls his eyes and does a dramatic hand gesture towards the inside of the flat as he moves out of the way.

"Welcome to my humble abode," he states and watches Alec's expression shift from smug to amused to shell-shocked in a stunning two seconds. His friend gawks at his flat for a moment before managing to gather himself enough to step inside so Magnus can close the door. Alec opens his mouth, closes it, and then opens it again like he can't quite figure out what to say. Finally he turns to Magnus with a somewhat wary and stunned expression.

"Colourful," is all he says and Magnus grins at him, letting out a breath of relief. He'd been concerned the other boy wouldn't like it. Alec is all darks and lights with no flare of colour, just shades whereas Magnus is vibrant hues of neon bursting with life. They're complete opposites when it comes to style and he's glad that neither really seems to care. It's just the way they are, and he thinks part of why they work is that they both accept that.

"Do you want something to drink, maybe?" he asks, feeling awkward and jittery and needing to fill the silence. Alec nods and throws out the name of a kind of tea, barely casting him a glance as he continues to scan the flat, looking mildly disoriented. He rushes off to the kitchen as quickly as he can without looking crazy, not wanting to be away from Alec too long. It's weird, this sudden need to constantly be near him. He's never been the desperate, clingy type before.

"Do you want milk or sugar?" he calls out once he's poured the hot water into the cup with the tea bag. He receives an affirmative reply back and dumps a teaspoon of sugar in, filling the cup the rest of the way up with milk. He has to hold himself back from putting any more sugar in, reminding himself not everyone wants eight scoops.

When he comes back out into the living room, Alec is done gawking at his flat and has taken a seat on the couch, picking at the sleeves of his sweater and staring intently down at his feet. Magnus smiles, moving over to him and setting the mug down on the coffee table in front of them. He sits beside him, forcing himself not to move in too close and keeping himself from throwing an arm around him. So instead of doing the million he thinks he wants to to get physically closer to the other boy, he tries to think up ways to figure out just a little bit more about Alec.

"You want to watch a movie?" he asks, thinking maybe he'll be able to learn what kind of movies Alec likes. His friend nods at him, asking what he has and he points him over to the giant bookshelf sitting in the corner of the room by the TV. He tries not to laugh at the shocked look on his friend's face when he sees it, though clearly he doesn't try hard enough.

In a small act of retaliation, Alec doesn't let him see what movie he's chosen until the name comes scrolling across his flat screen. He laughs harder at that because _of course _that's what he would choose. It's funny and interesting and not really all that remarkable but still a generally good movie. He thinks maybe something so small shouldn't make him so happy but it does and he can't help it. He feels like he's starting to _know _Alec, like for the first time they're tiptoeing forward without leaping back.

He watches Alec more than he does the movie but if the other boy notices he doesn't show it. It's the most expressive he's ever seen him, apart from that night in the park, and he thinks maybe he shouldn't relish in this so much. He finds himself smiling at it, at this little peek into Alec's mind even if he hasn't even scratched the surface of it yet. It's something and he'll take what he can get.

The quiet, breathy laugh that falls from his friend's lips partway through the movie takes him by surprise. It's the first time he's ever heard anything like it from the other boy and it feels like his own personal miracle. Like a milestone to show how much progress he's made here, even though it'd be nothing at all to anyone else. It's something so small, so simple, so unmeaningful and maybe that's why it means the world to him. There's no thought behind it to keep it from happening. He thinks that he's being allowed to place a toe through the first set of doors into Alec's world and it makes him giddy with joy. He's relieved, too. He thinks that maybe it'll be just a bit easier now to figure the other boy out since he seems to trust him more. And for a moment, he hopes.

It's gone as fast as it comes, the hope, because in the next moment he starts to think more clearly. He thinks maybe Alec has trusted him for a very long time now and that that's never been what it's about. Maybe it's because Alec cares about him, he knows he does, that he keeps having Alec's doors slammed in his face the second he so much as reaches for the handle. Maybe it's because Alec cares about him that he won't let him in. Maybe it's because Alec is the kind of person who walks in shades of gray that run darker than black and doesn't want to drag anyone into the dark with him.

* * *

Near the end of the movie, Alec falls asleep. He curls into the corner of the couch, making himself as small as possible and Magnus tries not to read too much into that. There's a frown etched onto his face, a kind panicked fear present in every line of his body. He's muttering to himself too quiet for Magnus to hear and he tries not to get any more worried than he already is. He tries and he tries and it never really seems to work when it comes to this strange, beautiful boy who's wormed his way into every inch of Magnus' life without him even noticing.

He drapes the blanket from the back of the couch over his friend and lets him sleep for a few hours because he always seems so exhausted. It's hard, to watch the way Alec curls protectively into himself with so much fear present in him even as he sleeps and not do anything. He wants so badly to just reach a hand out, to comfort him, but he doesn't know that it'll be welcome. He doesn't know that it won't set Alec off.

He's noticed the way everyone is so careful with Alec, even his own siblings, like he might snap if they just twitch in the wrong direction. Magnus doesn't understand why, he's never done anything that might suggest he'd flip at the smallest of things but they've known him longer and he's learned by now that nothing is ever what it seems with Alec. Maybe Alec is just different with him because he's not family and, as he's noticed in the time he's known him, Alec doesn't actually have any of his own friends other than Magnus. He seems to just hang out with his siblings and their friends when Magnus isn't there.

It's probably partially due to this that Magnus has noticed Alec doesn't seem to like any kind of socialization if it's not with Magnus. He shies away from his siblings, brushing them off and retreating into himself. He doesn't even breathe a word to anyone else unless specifically addressed and even then only if it's a question _requiring_ an answer. It can't even be considered antisocial because it's not like he even really has to try all that hard to avoid people; he's just generally unapproachable to others.

Alec jerks into a tighter protective ball suddenly and Magnus lurches forwards before he catches himself. He watches his friend carefully for another moment, looking for any signs that something awful is going to happen but he just seems to be having a nightmare. He wonders if he has those often, if that's why he never seems to get enough sleep.

It's ten o'clock by now and as much as Magnus wants him to stay, he knows Alec has to get home. Isabelle will probably have worried herself into panic by now. He moves back over to the couch from where he'd been sitting at the counter. He hesitates then, hand hovering over his friend's shoulder, before he slowly reaches down and shakes him awake.

Alec's eyes fly open and he jerks up into a sitting position, looking wildly around the room in the frenzied, confused, half-asleep state that comes with waking up in an unfamiliar place. Magnus takes his hand off his shoulder and tries to ignore the feeling of loss that comes from it, smiling softly at the other boy once his eyes finally come to rest on him.

"Hey, you fell asleep," he says, like it's not obvious. Alec rolls his eyes at him with a 'no-kidding' look on his face.

"Really? I hadn't realized," Alec quips, throwing his legs off the couch and onto the floor as he stretches his arms over his head. Magnus tries not to stare at the sudden expanse of skin he's met with when Alec's shirt rides up.

"I would have let you sleep longer but it's after ten and I figured you should probably be getting home." He makes a show of checking his phone and flipping it around for Alec to see, even though he already knows what time it is. Alec groans, running a hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes. It's kind of pointless, really. It always just falls right back into place.

Somehow, they end up at the door with Magnus silently wishing he didn't have to leave and Alec glancing uncertainly between him and the door. He looks overly nervous in a way he never has before and it puts Magnus on edge as well. Alec purses his lips, turning completely towards him with uncertain blue eyes that Magnus has trouble not falling into.

"Thanks," is all he says and then he's gone, out the door before Magnus even has a chance to process what he's said. When he does, he's left confused. He gets the feeling Alec isn't just thanking him for having him over.

* * *

Nearly all of the lights are out by the time he pulls into the driveway of the house. He parks carefully, perfectly in-between Isabelle's Prius and Jace's Mustang. He just sits in his car for a long moment, staring at the hands gripping the wheel of his car and trying to think clearly. It takes many long breaths to get the noise in his head to stop, many long seconds to stop listening to the words so they'll stop being spoken. He breathes carefully and slowly, closing his eyes and trying to picture something happy. _Safety_, she had said. _Picture something safe._

The porch light feels like that of an interrogation room and he covers his eyes as he makes his way up the steps to the door. _Safety_, he thinks as he slots his key into the lock and prays it will open quickly. He glances wildly over his shoulder, eyes darting across every shadow like they're going to attack him. _Safety_.

The door clicks shut behind him, the sound like a drum in the silence of the house and he feels trapped. His breath comes shorter and he can't see, it's too dark, there's something there, it's going to—_Safety. Picture something safe. _He sucks in a breath and makes his way up the stairs slowly and carefully. Reaching the top, he reminds himself the hallway is not as long as it seems, that his room is not so far away. He treads lightly, knowing his siblings might be asleep by now if they'd been out at the club all evening.

It feels like an eternity later when he reaches his room and can finally breathe a sigh of relief because he's _safe _now. It's okay now. He's okay.

When he steps out of the bathroom attached to the side of his room, finished getting ready to lay down in his bed and dream of falling asleep, his sister stands in the doorway, the light from the hall spilling in around her. He purses his lips and moves over to his bed without even looking at her, laying down with his back towards her. He doesn't want to talk, he never does. Can't she just _get that _already?

"Alec?" she asks softly but he doesn't move. There's a gentle sigh and then the bed dipping under her weight before she reaches a hand out to run gently over his hair. "Alec, please. Can't you at least tell me where you've been? I was worried, you know," she says and he bites his lip for a second, the silence stretching between them.

"Magnus'," he says, curling into himself more. _Safety, _he thinks. His sister isn't going to hurt him. Another soft sigh comes from behind him, the hand moving down to his shoulder, and he knows what she's going to say. It's an old argument she's never going to drop no matter how desperately he wants her to.

"Why won't you just let him in? He cares about you, Alec," she whispers and he squeezes his eyes shut. _Somewhere safe. This is safe. She won't hurt you._ He doesn't say anything to her, just pointedly turns away from her even more, shrugging her hand off his shoulder. She gives up, the way she always does because she knows better than to push. The bed shifts again and then there's footsteps retreating to the door where he hears her pause.

"I wish you'd stop shutting everyone out." The door clicks shut and then it's just him, the dark, and the constant whisper of voices no one else can hear.

* * *

**_Review, follow, fave :)_**


	8. And We Stray

**_Oh my God two updates in one day! And only like a day after the last one too! Oh wow, I'm awesome ;) Anyways, this chapter is much shorter than the last one, same length as the usual ones. The next one, which I'm currently writing, will be a lot longer I think. This chapter isn't one of my favourites (those were the long ones) but I do like it so I hope you do too and feel a sudden urge to let me know through follows, faves and reviews ;)_**

**_Also please check out my profile! There's a bunch of fic ideas up (with summaries, titles, ratings, pairings and length) and a poll for you to vote for which one I should write next. Next meaning like start now. Obviously I'm not going to stop with this one, it's my baby and it will always come before any others, but I feel like working on another aswell. So go vote! If you want to... Which you do._**

**_Hope you enjoy :)_**

* * *

****_November 30th_

* * *

"You know, in the amount of time you've been trying to get that open, you could have fucking _made _a new lock." Magnus throws her a glare, hardening at the smug smirk Camille offers in return, before he goes back to clanging his lock around in the hopes that it will miraculously spring open. Apparently his lock is very picky though because Alec seems to be the only one it will do that for.

Speaking of, he hasn't seen his friend all day, not even in any of the classes they share together. He wonders if he should worry before deciding against it; Alec misses weeks of school at a time, one morning is hardly anything to fret over. Still, he can admit that he misses the other boy, even though he really has no right to. He likes Camille fine, but he loves Alec and would choose him over her any day. And maybe that shouldn't be such a satisfying thought to him; the fact that Alec comes before everyone else. He can't quite bring himself to care though, so he leaves it be.

He hears Camille's amused snort as she watches his struggle and pointedly chooses to ignore it. A true friend would _help _him, not just sit back and laugh at his failures. Actually, no this is exactly what a true friend would do. He frowns down at the lock in his hand and begs it to just _work _for once in it's stupid, miserable existence. The lock remains stubbornly shut.

For the next five fucking minutes.

"Oh my God, Magnus! Let's just get the fucking lock cut! I'll even buy you a new one, Houdini," Camille says exasperatedly after it becomes abundantly clear that his lock is not going to open no matter what he tries. He narrows his eyes at the new nickname and heaves a sigh, throwing his bag over his shoulder and starting off in the direction of the janitor's closet where, hopefully, the solution to all his problems lie. Yeah right, some are not so easily fixed. Like Alec. Who he should really stop thinking about so much. There's the rushed clicking of heels behind him to drag him back to earth and then he gets an eyeful of blond hair as she flips it in his direction.

"Leaving without me? Rude."

"I was hoping to finally be rid of you," he quips back and watches a very fake look of hurt ripple across her features. She clasps a hand over her heart.

"Wow, Mags, you really know how to charm a lady."

"Lady? I don't see any, do you?" She smacks his shoulder, shoving him away from her and he grins back at her, his laugh echoing through the empty hallway. They're joking, playing around and having fun until Magnus catches a glimpse of dark hair and then he's suddenly being shoved as fast as Camille can into the Janitor's closet.

He whirls on her the second he catches his balance, the click of the door shutting like a hammer on metal in the silence of the room. The janitor's not there, probably off cleaning the bathrooms for the billionth time this week because _high school _and _teenagers_.

Camille looks slightly hesitant, nervous, like she's just done something wrong. Neither of them say anything for the first moment, her watching the ground at her feet and him frowning back. Finally, she looks up and meets his gaze. There's something there, in her eyes, that he can't quite place but it feels off. He tries to ignore it.

And then her lips crash against his, hands tangling in his hair and he's hit by this deep, uncontrollable wrongness. For the first moment, he ignores it, hands sliding around her waist and lips mashing back against hers. The wrongness grows into something more insistent, more sharp and painful in the very core of his being and then he's gasping against her and shoving her away from him with too much force. He vaguely notes she catches herself with a hand on his shoulder but his vision's blurry and he feels sick to his stomach.

He knows what this is, knows that it's because he loves Alec, and it makes him want to cry. How can you love someone you don't even know? It's pitiful, the way he pines after him like this. He wants to cry because he has no reason to feel bad about this and yet the guilt is a heavy stone in the pit of his stomach, weighing him down. He feels like the air's too thin, like he can't get enough of it.

Not for the first time, he wishes he wasn't so stupid; falling in love with someone so clearly unattainable. He wishes kissing Camille didn't feel so wrong and disgusting because in another life, a life where Alec had never come into being, he knows they would work. He wishes they could work in this life, that he could just move on already, but he can't. He wonders briefly how he can love someone so strongly when he doesn't even know him at all really.

It's painful to think about it, about how he _still _knows nothing about Alec. It's been a year already, a whole year, and he feels like he hasn't made any progress. He feels like maybe that's just how it is with Alec; one step forward, one step back. And maybe that will change one day, maybe they'll be able to just keep walking forward but that day isn't anytime soon and he hates that. He hates waiting for it to come.

For a while he just stares at the ground by his feet, trying to quell the awful feelings that are drowning him. He stares until his hands stop shaking, until his eyes stop watering. He stares until he stops hyperventilating, until the world doesn't look so blurry anymore. He stares until the guilt shifts to a deeper part of him, buried enough so he can finally breathe again. He stares until he can finally lift his gaze and meet that of the girl standing in front of him, hand still on his shoulder.

He feels like crying again when he looks into her eyes because this is wrong and this hurts her and Magnus hates himself for that, even though he knows it's not entirely his fault. He pulls in another breath and gives her a pleading look, begging her to understand how much he doesn't want to hurt her and how sorry he is.

Camille just sighs in response, eyes sad and seemingly resigned. "Alec, right?" is all she says and Magnus hesitates. He cares about Camille, he likes her, she's one of the first real friends he's ever really had and he hates himself for doing this. He hates himself for rejecting her over a guy he knows nothing about, a guy so closed off the door's completely welded shut by now. He hates himself because he knows the pang of rejection, feels it everyday when he glances over to find cold blue eyes. He knows it, and he wouldn't wish it on anyone. In the end though, what he really hates himself for is loving someone he knows he doesn't have a chance with.

"I'm sorry," he whispers into the darkness of the janitor's closet. She smiles back at him, sweet and small and heartbreakingly sad. The last thing she tells him, voice soft and kind, before she's gone is something he knows and yet had needed to hear from someone other than himself and the ghosts of people he'd rather forget. The last bit she tacks on though, at the end, sends a pang of hurt coursing through him because it's not true. He knows it never will be true. you can't love the wrong person because whoever you love will always be the right one.

"You can't help who you love, Magnus. Even if it's the wrong person."

* * *

_**Remember, go check out my profile and vote for what you want me to write. Also, reviews, follows and faves are love :)**_


	9. And We Bleed

**_Hey guys, this is the longest chapter yet! 4,000 words! I feel really accomplished right now :) This chapter jumps around in terms of the time it takes place but it should still be as easy to follow as I intended it to be. I really like this chapter, by the way. The non-Magnus point of views are my favourite pieces of this story so far. One of my personal favourite chapters XD_**

**_Remember to go vote on the poll on my profile for what Malec fic you want me to do (in a few weeks) or send me a pm about it! Or leave it in a review... *wink wink nudge nudge* Seriously, review. Please?_**

* * *

_December 14th_

* * *

He's in the process of moping over a love he'll never be able to have when Magnus' phone goes off, shaking the coffee table it's on with the force of it's vibrations. He sighs, not having enough energy to make a lunge for it right away. Moping takes more energy than he'd thought, leaving him exhausted. Another moment passes and the phone keeps vibrating until finally he pulls his arm away from where it'd been resting across his eyes and reaches for the device. He has trouble locating it without even looking in it's general direction, knocking a bunch of useless things off the coffee table in the process. He jerks to attention when he sees the name displayed across the screen.

"Hello?" he says once he's pressed the green image of a phone and held it up to his ear. He tries to keep the worry and panic out of his voice because while Alec barely texts, he _never _calls. Magnus prays that everything's okay and that he's just overreacting due to over a year's worth of constant worry for a boy far too mysterious. He knows praying won't make a difference.

"Magnus?" comes the shaky voice from the other end of the line and the worry and panic explodes through his entire being because Alec sounds _awful_. He sounds worse than ever before, though that's not exactly saying much considering how closed off he is. He can hear the muffled sobs and sniffs all too clearly.

"Alec? Are you okay? What's wrong?" he asks quickly and the sobs get even louder, garbled words forming in between them that Magnus can't understand. He's already walking to the door in preparation for going over to the other boy, though he's entirely at a loss for what to do about the wretched sobbing from down the line. "Alec, baby, I can't understand what you're saying. Take a deep breath and try again, slowly." There's a long, shuddering breath through the phone and the sobs are muffled just long enough for Alec to get out two words before he breaks down again.

"I'm sorry," he sobs and Magnus freezes with his hand hovering just inches above a black high-heeled boot. Gulping down the lump in his throat, he tries not to let any of his panic show in his voice because he knows that's not going to help Alec. Still, he has no idea what _will _help Alec.

"Sorry? For what?" He feels like he's asking too many questions but for once he thinks he might actually get some answers that aren't cryptic versions of 'watch out for Alec, he's messed up' or 'just leave me alone'. Magnus hopes.

Another deep breath and then a stuttered pronoun, like Alec can't quite bring himself to say what it is, and then just the sound of more crying. Magnus' worried frown deepens even more then and he tugs his boots on faster. He doesn't know what to do right now, when he doesn't even know what's wrong, but he feels like being alone isn't going to be good for his friend.

"Alec, love, where are you?" he asks and tries to keep from sounding overly desperate and panicked. That definitely won't help either. There's a pause on the line, filled with the sounds of deep breaths and somewhat muffled sobs, before he gets an answer.

"Can you— can you meet me at the park? I want— don't want to be alone… please?" It's a stuttery, garbled reply but he understands. He feels the tiniest bit of relief at the fact that Alec called him rather than dealing with whatever this is on his own but it's overpowered by concern for his best friend.

"Of course, I'll be there in ten. Is that okay?" he asks, worried it'll be too late. He wishes he knew what was wrong, then his mind wouldn't be jumping to all the worst possible things. He knows he has a tendency to over-think things and that it'll do more harm than good in this situation.

"Yeah. Yeah, in ten. I can do that. Ten's good. Ten's safe." He tries not to question the last bit too much.

* * *

It feels like a lifetime passes in the couple of minutes it takes Magnus to reach the park and he's going out of his mind with worry by the time he finally does. He parks crookedly, taking up two spaces, but he doesn't have the presence of mind to care. It's not like the park's busy after dark anyways. Magnus starts running down the path only to realize that that might make him look a little too desperate and concerned so he slows to something more like a speed walk. When he finally catches sight of a dark figure hunched over on one of the benches, he all but sprints to him, sinking down beside him.

"Alec? What happened? Are you okay?" he knows he's talking too quickly but he's in a panicked craze at the moment and doesn't really give a shit. He's not exactly expecting Alec to just turn into him, wrapping his arms around his waist as he sobs into his shoulder. It brings about a moment of shocked paralyzation for Magnus before he too wraps his arms around the other boy. This does nothing to quell the fear that's taking hold over him.

"Magnus, I'm sorry," he whispers against him and Magnus tightens his grip, feeling like if he lets go he'll lose the other boy forever. It's an irrational thought, but it's one he can't shake. He knows that what he does here is important. He doesn't know where the thought comes from, but it's there, reminding him that even the smallest misstep could ruin all of this.

"Sorry for what?" he asks and then suddenly Alec is pulling away and he has but a moment to panic over what he did wrong before the long, dark sleeves of Alec's sweater are being pulled up. He feels like he's going to pass out.

* * *

He knows that it's bad. He knows that the only reason he hadn't gone deep enough to kill, as deep as he'd gone the last time, is because he couldn't shake the gold-green eyes from his mind. He hadn't wanted to leave Magnus.

It'd been the same the time before that too, the constant image of a boy, whom he has no right to love, in his mind keeping him from even picking up the scissors in the first place. This is something new to him; having something to stop him. _Safety_. Yes, that's what this is. Magnus is safe.

Just like that time before, he ends up calling the boy he wants so badly to be more than just a somewhat close friend. And just like before, they meet at the park. This is a good thing, he tells himself. He doesn't need to be afraid here because Magnus is safe. The whispers never turn to screams when he's around.

Maybe it's because he's caught up in the safety of it that he lets Magnus in. Maybe it's because he's exhausted from long nights of terrifying shadows keeping him from closing his eyes. Maybe it's because he's starved from endless days of delusions making food look anything but edible. Maybe it's because he's just so sick of this fear, of voices for no one else to hear and monsters for no one else to see.

In the end it doesn't really matter why, only that it happens.

* * *

Magnus finds for the first time in his life that he's physically incapable of saying a word. It's not even just because he doesn't know what to say, but because he feels like if he opens his mouth he might throw up. He'd known it was bad, known whatever was up with Alec was something seriously wrong and worse than anything he could imagine, but that doesn't make it any easier to suddenly have solid evidence of that right in front of him. It doesn't make it any better.

It's bad, barely clotted enough to keep the blood from dripping everywhere. The cuts, if that's what you can even call them anymore, are so fresh that he knows they must have been done just before Alec called him and he can see thick white lines under them; scars he knows he'll never be able to erase. It doesn't matter how much he wishes he could. The thing is though, there's something about it that makes it eerily beautiful. He thinks maybe it's the fact that this is Alec, this is what's behind the first door into his world. He's finally being allowed in, even if it's just a little bit.

It's not the cuts that make him feel sick though, because while those are bad, awful, he knows that's hardly the worst. It's partially the reasoning behind the marks, the intent, that makes his stomach heave. He knows that whatever it is, it's something awful that he can't even begin to comprehend. There's something wrong with Alec and he really just wants to know what it is before this gets even worse.

Gently, Magnus' hands come up to flit over the ugly red lines marring his friend's beautiful skin. He curls his fingers around Alec's elbow carefully to avoid hurting him and slowly pushes his sleeve up even farther. It's then that he finds himself sucking in a ragged breath because here the cuts turn to burns. When he glances up at Alec's face, he finds him staring back with the same cold, detached expression as usual.

He pulls the other boy's sleeve back down carefully and turns away from him, leaning his elbows on his knees to put his face in his hands. He tries to remember how to breath for a second, feeling his throat constrict, tears burning in his eyes and his stomach heaving over and over. He wasn't expecting it to be this bad.

Maybe he should have been, maybe he should have payed more attention to everyone's warnings, but looking over at the broken boy beside him he can't find it in himself to regret this. Just the thought of Alec being alone with all of this makes him feel even more sick, like his insides are trying to crawl their way up through his throat. He thinks back to Isabelle, the sad, desperate look on her face as she'd told him to be worried and the way she'd pushed him to stay with Alec, to be there. She knows about this. Maybe not how bad it is, but she knows.

He thinks Camille must know something about it too, from the warning her and Ragnor had sent him and the subtle hint to abandon this thing with Alec, after she'd kissed him. When he thinks back, he remembers seeing a dark head of hair coming around the corner right before she'd shoved him in the closet. He realizes it was Alec, that Camille had been trying to keep them apart. It makes a dark ball of rage unfurl in his chest and he has to stamp it down because now is not the time, he can deal with her later. Right now he needs to focus on Alec.

Rubbing his hands over his face as he lifts his head to look at the boy beside him, he pauses. There's a moment where neither of them so much as blink, eyes locked together, and in it Magnus gathers enough strength to speak. It's just one word, soft and pleading and sad.

"Alec," he whispers and it's like the dam just _breaks _because then suddenly Alec collapses in on himself, hands clawing at his scalp as he cries. He's rocking back and forth ever so slightly, sobbing apologies as his body shakes. Magnus reaches out and gently pulls his hands away from his head, pressing the other boy against him as hard as he can because he knows Alec needs this. He knows they both do.

He's crying too.

* * *

_December 14th, Before_

* * *

Isabelle's in the process of painting her nails violet when she hears the crash down the hall. It sends her tumbling off her bed and out into the dimly lit hallway in a matter of seconds. Jace is there too, looking just as wary as she is but with a considerably smaller amount of panic. She envies him for this, for his ability to stay calm in the face of absolutely everything. It's something she's never been able to do.

With a shared glance full of worry, they make their way down the hall to Alec's room, where they know the noise had come from. Isabelle tries not to break out into a sprint on the way there and manages a speed walk instead, a great accomplishment in her opinion. When the door flies open, courtesy of Jace's strength, she feels all the blood drain from her face.

The mirror that used to hang on the wall above Alec's dresser is completely shattered, broken shards scattered across the room. By the looks of the frame resting in pieces by his bed, he must have thrown it on the ground. It's not really the broken mirror that gets to her though because while that may be unusual for anyone else, this is Alec and it's not the worst she's seen. No, it's not the mirror that gets to her, it's the blood coating most of the pieces of it and leaving a trail that disappears under the door to Alec's bathroom. She reminds herself he might have just stepped on it, that he could just be cleaning off his feet or something. She reminds herself not to jump to the worst possible scenarios. They might not be true. She hopes so.

Her golden brother, the one she never has to worry about, gives her a look. There's something in his eyes that looks like fear, though she doesn't think that can be the case because Jace is never afraid of anything. Then again, it's in regards to Alec. Anything is possible when it involves him.

Another crash breaks Isabelle out of her thoughts and she whirls around only to find Jace standing before the swinging door of the bathroom, clearly having kicked it open if the dent in it is anything to go by. She shoots him a glare because he could've at least knocked first, though Alec wouldn't have opened the door, before she steps forward and into the bathroom. This is her place now, not Jace's. Jace isn't good at this. Neither is she, really, but she's better than he is and someone has to fill the role.

"Alec?" she calls out softly, stepping into the bathroom cautiously. She knows Alec and he hates it when his space is invaded. His _safety zone_. There's no reply but she can tell he's in there so she just keeps moving forwards, towards the closed door of the shower in the far corner. She can make out, just barely, the shadowy figure of a person behind the glass as she approaches and slowly brings her hand up to grasp the handle of the shower door.

"Alec, I'm coming in," she says and then moves the sliding glass panel out of the way so she can step inside. Sure enough, Alec is sitting against the wall to her right, huddled into a defensive ball with his hands tucked neatly between his knees and his chest. Isabelle crouches down in front of him, reaching out to touch his knees. He jerks at the contact, head flying up so fast she's worried he'll hit it on the shower wall behind him. He stares at her, wild eyes darting across her face in an unfocused frenzy. She reaches out to him, grasping his face in her hands and looking him in the eye. He settles at the contact this time, tension leaking out of him as he stares right back.

"Iz?" he asks carefully, like he's not quite sure whether or not to believe it.

"Yeah, I'm here," she replies and this time it's him who reaches out, hands running across her face to confirm her words. She lets him without saying another word, Dr. Crow's advice filling her mind. _Let him make sure of things for himself, he needs to confirm that what he's seeing is reality on his own. He won't believe it if you're just telling him._

"You're real," he says and she breathes a sigh of relief. Last time it hadn't gone so well.

"I'm real," she repeats, a soft smile touching her features.

He still looks unsure.

* * *

The phone sits on his dresser, a reflection of it in the mirror above. Beside it is a battered old guitar pick and a rusty pocket knife. A thin layer of dust coats the wooden dresser, disrupted only by the objects on top. Soft light filtering in through the thin blinds over the windows catches on the glinting metal of the knife to reveal more than just rust coating the blade. The mirror above it all is plain and simple, a non-decorative frame keeping it from falling down.

Alec stops his pacing, bringing his hands away from where they'd been pulling at his hair. He glances over at the dresser, something wild and desperate in his eyes as he moves hastily towards it. It's when he's reaching for the pocket knife that he catches sight of the mirror and freezes. He stares wide-eyed at the reflective piece of glass.

He traces the lines of his face with sharp eyes, voices in the back of his mind cataloguing each and every flaw. He notices he's gotten thinner than the last time he remembers seeing a reflection of himself. He looks almost skeletal now. He also notices the bags under his eyes are worse than before. He looks like he's dying. Maybe he is.

His eyes catch on something behind him, a figure looking over his shoulder, and he takes that in too. It's tall, taller than the others, and seems much less menacing for some reason he can't comprehend. He frowns at it and watches as it stares at him through the mirror, green eyes more alive than anything else his fucked up mind has conjured up before. They stare at each other for a long while. It's the first one that hasn't spoken to him, tormented him with lies he started to believe a long time ago. This one is different. There's something almost kind in it's eyes, almost sympathetic in the way it looks at him. It's the first that doesn't seem to want to harm him.

He raises a hand up to the mirror, eyes still locked with the other's, and presses it against the glass where the edge of the figure's face is. It leans forwards, it's own hand coming up to rest on his shoulder. This startles Alec, the fact that it's proving to him it's not real. They never do that, they always make him believe they are.

He turns around quickly to look behind him where the figure had stood in the mirror. It's gone, never having been there in the first place. It leaves a strange feeling in Alec, a loneliness that's different than before. When he turns back to the mirror the figure doesn't reappear and all he's left to look at is the image of a sick, broken boy with silent tears sliding down his face.

He rips the mirror off the wall.

* * *

_December 14th, After_

* * *

For a long while they just sit there, huddled close together on a lonely bench in an empty park under a bright streetlamp to keep the shadows at bay. They sit there in silence, muffled sniffs and choked sobs the only sounds filling the air around them. They sit there for longer than either of them can keep track of, taking comfort in the presence of the other; a solid rock against the turmoil of their emotions.

When Alec's phone goes off, a soft melody drifting through the air, it breaks the trance-like state they'd been in and Magnus has to let go of Alec so he can take the disruptive device out of his back pocket. There's a strange kind of surprised relief written across the other's face as he pulls it out and stares down at the screen for a second. It's not a new text or a phone call, Magnus notes as he glances over at the screen, but an alarm. He frowns in confusion, watching as Alec swipes the red X. Magnus doesn't ask.

When the other boy looks up at him again, there's something wary and unsure in his expression as he bites his lip. He tries not to focus on that too much; it's really not the right time. Instead, Magnus just stares back at him in silence, waiting for Alec to say something first. It's partially because he himself has no idea where to start. This isn't something he's ever dealt with before.

"Magnus?" Alec asks quietly after another moment, voice soft and cautious as he whispers the single word. It doesn't really fit the way everyone seems to see Alec, this cold, unreachable being far removed from their version of humanity. In the short time Magnus has known him, he's come to realize everybody's wrong about him because Alec is just an extremely broken boy who has the bad habit of shutting out everyone who could even so much as try to put him back together.

"Yeah?" Magnus replies just as softly, fighting the urge to wipe away the remainder of tears on Alec's face. Or even just brush his dark hair away from those beautiful blue eyes.

"Where do we go from here?" Alec whispers back, sounding broken and lost in a way that's somehow different than before. There's nothing hidden behind it all this time, Magnus doesn't have to try to read into every tick in his voice to figure out what he's not saying because there isn't anything there. For once, Alec is completely open.

"I don't know," he says, a breathy laugh escaping him at the end. It's desperate and pleading and anything but happy. He's never been the one people have gone to for the answers, has never had to have any. This is new to him, being the one to help. He's just as lost as Alec is here.

Alec turns away from him then, looking out at the expanse of grass across the path from them as he lets out a soft laugh as well. Magnus looks at him closely, eyes trained on every line and curve that make up his face, watching for even the slightest change. He feels strange, almost giddy though he knows that's not really appropriate for the situation. Still, for the first time he's made a huge leap of progress and he can't help the happiness that it brings. It's relieving too, because even if this world of Alec's he's beginning to see is much worse than he'd imagined, he _knows _now. At least this little piece of it. He can figure everything else out from there.

Leaning back against the bench, Magnus too turns his gaze to the fields of mowed grass hidden in the dark under tall trees on the other side of the path. The minutes stretch between them in silence, neither taking note of the sun slowly beginning to chase away the night. Magnus gets lost in his thoughts full of worry and confusion and sudden realizations he hadn't expected, only to snap out of them when the boy beside him reaches across the space between them and curls his hand around Magnus' with an odd kind of gentleness he never would have associated with him before. He doesn't move his gaze away from the grass as he wraps their hands together more firmly.

This is progress, he reminds himself. This is a good thing. There's no reason for this crushing sadness.

* * *

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	10. And We Love

**_Hey guys! So I bought City Of Heavenly Fire the day after it came out but my sister took it to New York with her to get it signed by Cassandra Clare so I haven't read it yet. And _nobody _is going to spoil it for me. I haven't even read COLS yet actually, though I know everything that happens in it which is how I wrote a one-shot about it. I'll read COLS this weekend so I can read COHF when my sister gets back. Now I repeat,_ NOBODY _is going to spoil it for me. No one._**

**_Anyways, my chapters are all going to be longer from now on I think, after the last few really long ones. I'm guessing like 2k is going to be the new standard rather than 1k._**

**_I cried writing Isabelle's part of this, like actually cried. I've never done that before. I don't even know why but it just really got to me and I was awkwardly explaining to my mom when she walked in on me that I was perfectly fine and just a very emotional writer. I'm weird._**

**_Enjoy this chapter and don't forget to follow, favourite and review! _**

* * *

_January 8th_

* * *

Isabelle has always loved her brothers, each in their own special way. Max, she'd loved protectively, motherly-like, for his innocent childishness and inability to not speak his mind. He'd always been so very different from everyone else in the Lightwood family and she can admit that sometimes she'd found herself jealous of that. Where all of them but Alec were selfish and shallow, dancing around to keep up appearances, Max was selfless and so full of heart she sometimes wonders how he lasted as long as he did.

Jace, Isabelle loves in a competitive, sisterly kind of way for his charisma and confidence. Of all the Lightwoods, they're the most alike. They're the same age, with the same friends and the same ideals. They both care too much about what others think, the way they're perceived, and they both tend to make the same mistakes. She loves him for their similarities, loves him because she is never alone so long as she has him for a brother. She loves him because he's a mirror for her to look into and take notice of her flaws, though she never knows how to fix them.

Alec, she loves as a little sister always loves their older brother. When she was little, she'd look up to him and wish she could be everything he was because at the time she hadn't been able to see the flaws in him. Maybe that's what the distance between them was caused by; her seeing him as perfect and him not having the heart to prove her wrong. Now that she's older, she knows perfection is nothing but a fantasy and that her brother is far from it. She can see there's something wrong with him now, something that's not just a normal flaw, but it doesn't change her love for him. She will always look up to him, no matter how much of himself he forgets. She'll always be there to try to remind him.

She loves Alec still because, like Max, he doesn't care about what others think. He hides the dark, twisted parts of himself, sure, but she knows that's because he doesn't want them to worry in the way they always do. She can't say he's selfless though, because while he might put everyone's happiness before his own she considers his efforts to remove himself from the picture as the most selfish thing anyone could ever do. Doesn't he understand he'll only hurt them more with that? She loves him for that too though, for how much _he _loves no matter if it's unreasonable or uncalled for. She loves her precious, broken older brother because he loves her unconditionally in a way no one else ever has.

She loves him because he knows the _real _her, behind all the makeup and short skirts and parties and boys. She loves him because she _can_ love when she's around him; she doesn't have to hide the part of her that feels.

It's her love for him that ends up pushing him away though, because while he might love her just as strongly, probably even more, he can't let her in like she wants. Maybe she was too desperate about it, maybe she banged on his doors too hard and yelled too loud and maybe she just stayed there banging away for too long. Maybe that's what scared him, the fact that she wasn't going to just give up and walk away like everybody else, because he realized the doors wouldn't hold forever. That's why he reached through the crack and shoved her away from them before throwing up another set right in front of where she'd fallen onto the hard ground at their feet.

It's this rift between them, one she can't stitch, that keeps her from asking about the changes she sees in her brother. It's evident that something's different there but she has no idea what it is other than that it probably involves Magnus. And it doesn't matter how desperately she wants to know, she can't ask. They're not as close as they used to be, no matter how much she wishes they were.

It's because Isabelle knows she can't bridge the gap between them that she clings to the idea of Magnus. He's her last, final hope to help her brother before she gives up because this is a battle she can't win on her own and she's tired of losing the fights. There's something about Magnus, something different, that makes her believe he can do what she's been trying and failing to for years now. She gets the feeling he cares for Alec just as much as she does too so, if nothing else, she can cling to that.

And yet it is still so, so hard to know she'll never be able to reach her big brother.

* * *

In the far corner of the room there is a pile of broken glass reflecting in the sunlight creeping through the closed blinds. It's the only light in the darkness of his room and it dances across the walls in eerie patterns his eyes dart to follow. For a brief moment his breath hitches as he eyes the shifting shadow before his dresser warily. He sucks in a breath and thinks of his safe haven, willing himself to calm down.

_It's all in your head, Alec._

In the other corner of the room there is an old guitar stand holding a glimmering black electric guitar. Beside that, there is a music stand so full of books and papers that they hang off every edge of it. On the wall it's all closest to there are over a dozen other guitars, all showing dark shades with different designs scrawled across them. This he takes comfort in, having it all right there within reach.

_That's real, Alec. Everything else isn't._

He tries to even his breathing out even more, tries to convince himself of reality with every ounce of his being but there's still too much doubt. How can he know the difference? Is there one? Maybe it's all real. Maybe none of it is.

_Stop it, this isn't helping._

He stands from the bed and moves towards the dresser, grabbing his beaten, old phone off the top. He tries not to let his eyes linger on the knife sitting beside it. Punching in the number as quickly as he can, he presses the green phone icon on the screen and holds it up to his ear. He's panicking still, combing every inch of the room over and over again in case something changes.

_Come on, stop. You know he'll pick up._

There's a crackling noise through the phone and Alec forgets how to breathe again before the sound of groggy moaning and annoyed huffs echoes down the line and he remembers. There's a vaguely pissed off sounding snap of a greeting and Alec hesitates. Maybe he shouldn't have called.

_Oh please, you've done this a thousand times before. You'd know he'd be more angry if you didn't call._

"Hey, Magnus?" He doesn't intend for it to come off sounding like so much of a question, it was meant to be a statement. He can hear an intake of breath and a whole lot of shuffling before he gets a reply.

_It's fine, he's probably just surprised you called so early._

"Hello, Alec! May I ask the reason for your calling?" Magnus says and Alec can hear the thinly veiled worry in his tone. It's a familiar sound, one he hears every time he calls so nearly every night. It's one he hears every time they meet on a lone bench in an empty park after the moon's chased the sun away. It's one he hates.

_Is it really such a bad thing?_

"Does there have to be a reason? I'm hurt, Magnus, that you think I would only call if I wanted something," he replies, succeeding in coming off as teasing and light-hearted which is about the complete opposite of how he actually feels. His heartbeat's getting slower though the longer he stays on the phone so he's hoping that will change soon. Magnus has always been good at doing that.

_And yet you won't admit the reason why, will you?_

"Actually I was thinking you had better have a good reason for waking me up before nine on a weekend, but whatever you want, dear. Just remember you said it, not me." A laugh bubbles up in his chest and he forces it down to a snort because he hasn't laughed in so long and he's not sure it won't come out sounding completely wrong. He's afraid of something else too, but he doesn't want to think about that. He might have let Magnus slip through the first set of doors into his world but he won't let him breach the second.

_Would it really be so bad?_

"Um, Magnus, do,um, do you— Nevermind." It's not why he'd called, he'd just needed to hear his voice to calm himself down. He doesn't know why he's suddenly desperate to say it, but he finds himself tripping over the words to ask the question he's so terrified of getting an answer to. The one on the tip of his tongue wasn't even the right one but he knows the answer would be the same. Still, no matter how much he wants to he can't find the words to ask.

_Why are you always so afraid?_

"Do I what? Alec, you know you can say anything to me," Magnus says, sounding curious and concerned at the same time with that ever-present sincerity creeping in underneath. Alec glances down at his dresser, suddenly aware he's no longer afraid of the shadows dancing in his room, and tries to gather his thoughts into one simple sentence that will be easy for Magnus to understand. He can't come up with one that's perfect.

_It doesn't need to be, he'll understand._

"Do you want to go out?" It comes out too rushed, a jumble of words he's terrified to say. He hears a gasp on the other end of the phone and while it sounds like the good kind, he still immediately regrets the question. Alec is a broken, fucked-up mess. Why would Magnus want to be with him? He doesn't, he can't.

_He kissed you back, remember? Stop doubting yourself._

"Like, on a date?" comes the slow, careful response and while it eliminates his fear of being misunderstood, it does nothing to quell his worry of having said something he shouldn't have. Magnus is perfect and Alec is Alec so how could he possibly feel the same?

_Stop _doubting _yourself._

"Maybe?" he tries, voice too quiet and the silence too loud. He tries to remind himself that this is okay, that nothing bad's going to happen.

_It's not._

There's a relieved sounding breath before "Then yes, yeah. Definitely," comes down the line and this time Alec doesn't even bother trying to stamp down the laugh now because _this _is real. That's something he's sure of.

_This time it's not just in your head._

* * *

Isabelle notices that something else has changed in Alec, more so than anything in the past month and it leaves her breathless. She can see something good happened, better than whatever it was a month ago that started these tiny, to anyone else, but drastic, to them, changes. There's something lighter in him all of a sudden, like finally he might be peeking through the cracks in his doors to see the world outside his own and she hopes against hope that soon he'll step out to explore it.

She knows Magnus is the cause of the tiptoes of progress she'd been seeing as well as this sudden giant leap and it gives her mixed feelings. It makes her relieved because her brother might be finally getting better instead of worse and it makes her happy because she wants so badly for him to not be alone any longer. However, there's an underlying bitter tang of sadness to it all because she isn't the one being let in. He's chosen someone he just met a year ago over his sister and it hurts almost as bad as watching her brother fall apart and not being able to hold him together.

It makes her want to cry, though she has no right to.

* * *

_**Oh my God, no Magnus part. That's a first. Review, people! They increase the likely hood of faster updates :)**_


	11. And We Start

**_Hey, guys! This chapter possesses the longest paragraph I think I've ever written (in that first scene there). It's also a longer chapter, like 3,500+ words. I feel very awesome right now. Also it's a day early because I'm not sure I'll be able to post tomorrow. I'm going to try to get a whole other chapter done by Sunday to post too, but I won't making any promises about that._**

**_Also, you might notice the chapters now have names. Yay! They'll probably change about a million times by the time this story is finished :P_**

**_So you remember that poll I was talking about? Well, "Been There, Done That" won by like two votes so that's the one I'm doing and the first chapter is already up :) So go check it out, if you're interested and go vote for the next one you'd like after that. *nudge, nudge*_**

**_Enjoy! And let me know if you did by following, favouriting and reviewing XD_**

* * *

_January 9th_

* * *

Magnus has to remind himself twenty times in the four hours it takes to do his hair and makeup that Alec won't care what he looks like. Alec isn't the kind of shallow person who gives a damn about appearances and yet Magnus finds that that just makes him try even harder to dress to impress. He cares about what others think a bit too much in this aspect of his life, he'll admit it.

He ends up re-doing his hair six times, six different ways and his makeup at least twice that. After he's finally finished with that, he moves out of the bathroom and onto his bedroom where he proceeds to toss nearly the entire contents of his closet onto his floor. He's never had this much trouble figuring out what to wear before.

After another hour on the ground searching through it all over and over again, he gives up with a huff and shuts his eyes, randomly pulling a pair of bright skinny jeans out of the pile. Magnus frowns at the heap of clothes for a second before rifling through the area of his floor with the most shirts to find a match. It takes over twenty minutes before he finally emerges from the mess, clutching a dark v-neck victoriously.

It's then that he realizes he only has another half hour before the date and he's spent his _entire _day getting ready even though Alec isn't going to care at all what he looks like. He groans. It's official, he's a complete, love-sick, idiot.

And _then _it starts to sink in that yes, this is really happening and that being with Alec is no longer an _in his dreams _but a _dream come true_. Yeah, he's definitely in love. That's the only explanation for his sudden cheesiness and obsession over stupid things. Still, he thinks he kind of has a right to be overly-excited about this because he's been waiting for it for nearly a year and he hadn't actually thought he'd be able to have it. Ever.

When he thinks about it though, this isn't so far-fetched. They've gotten a lot closer over the last month even if he's really not learned anything new about Alec. He thinks it's because it's become a regular thing now, phone calls in the middle of the night and long hours together on a lone bench in an empty park. It's become normal for Magnus to roll up Alec's sleeves past his elbows to check for anything out of place on the expanse of marred, pale skin and give the other boy a look full of desperation and hurt at each new scar. It's become a usual occurrence for them to sit together in the brightness of Magnus' apartment, huddled close in silence as a movie neither are really paying attention to plays across the television screen. It's these little things that make Magnus feel like they're miles closer than before even though they really don't know each other that much better at all. Maybe it's because they're there more often than before, steady rocks for each other to hold onto even if they don't know why the other's drifting away. They find comfort here, knowing there's someone else there, and even though Magnus hadn't been in need of it, he feels better than ever before. He feels more stable, grounded, even if he hadn't thought he'd needed to be.

He finds himself pausing at that thought, hovering over the mass of shoes by his door. Maybe this isn't such a good idea. Maybe it's best if he just stays friends with Alec, _only_ friends, because he doesn't want to mess this up. It's not even just that he's worried they might not work in that way and will end up breaking up, never speaking again and Alec being alone in whatever the hell it is that's going on with him to be able to take it one step further and then be gone forever, dead in a lonely little graveyard no one ever visits. He's worried about that, clearly, but that's not all it is. Because what happens if they do work? What if because they work, Alec stops opening up to him? What if he stops going to him in times of need because he doesn't want to mess it up? What if, if they get closer like this, Alec starts slamming the doors in his face like he's done with everyone he loves? He's seen that, seen the way Isabelle gets shut even further out the more she shows she cares.

Then again, hasn't it always been different between them? Magnus knows he hasn't been the most subtle with his feelings for his friend and he knows Alec isn't oblivious to it. If he hasn't shut him out yet, what's to say he would if they started dating? Maybe it would make things better because there wouldn't be this barrier of unconfessed feelings between them, keeping them from getting as close as they could. Maybe Alec would open up more because they'd be closer to each other than they are now. Maybe this _is _a good thing... But maybe it's not.

Magnus is just going to go ahead and find out.

* * *

Isabelle watches in vague amusement as her brother opens and closes drawers in his dresser repeatedly without pulling a single item of clothing out. She snorts when he pauses with his shirt drawer open, staring into it's depths with a bewildered look on his face like the concept of _style _is beyond him. Finally, after another few minutes pass and still no progress is made, she decides to help him out a little bit.

"You should wear that black one Jace gave you the other day. It looks good on you," she offers and Alec freezes with his hand hovering over the pile of folded shirts in the drawer. A relieved look crosses his face when he registers what she's said and he reaches into the very back of it to pull out the shirt in question. It's tighter than what he'd usually wear but not so much that it'd be uncomfortable. He'll be putting a sweater on over it anyway. He's reaching for his average pair of dark, worn jeans when Isabelle makes a strangled sound and lunges forward to rip them away from him.

"No! No, no, no. Jesus, Alec. Don't you have _any _fashion sense at _all_? You can't wear those ugly monsters with such an attractive piece. Come, brother, let us raid Jace's closet for what we are in search of," she says, the last part delivered while flipping her long, dark hair over her shoulder dramatically. Alec raises an eyebrow at her but says nothing, clearly deciding it's not worth the struggle when she's going to get her way no matter what. She thinks that whatever this is he's getting ready for must be important to him if he's not even putting up any fight whatsoever. He must really want to look good for this.

It must be Magnus, she thinks. Maybe they're finally going somewhere. Maybe she won't have as much cause to worry for her brother anymore. Maybe her final hope for him has pulled through. Maybe it's going to be okay.

She knows better than to get her hopes up.

* * *

Magnus glances at the tiny glowing numbers on the dashboard of his car and sucks in a deep breath. He tries unsuccessfully to will himself into a state of calm, or at least not the current state of overwhelming nerves he's in, and then proceeds to panic even more when it doesn't work. He sucks in more deep breaths as the road blurs in front of him and he briefly considers pulling over to avoid crashing the car during his unexpected panic attack. He doesn't, deciding there's no point when he's the only one on the road and can therefore go as slow as he needs. Magnus is already late though, he knows that, so he presses a hand over his chest to calm his racing heart and then slams his foot down harder on the gas pedal.

There's something overwhelming about realizing this is really happening and it takes his breath away. He doesn't know what to expect here, doesn't have any idea what's going to happen. He never does when Alec's involved. All of the unknown has suddenly hit him and it's hard. It's hard to see that he has absolutely no idea what's going to happen next.

Maybe it's kind of exhilarating too though, rushing into something he can't plan even the smallest detail of. It's not what he's used to, he's always had a general idea of the outcome before he started something, but he thinks that this is a good thing. He's always been told that new is good and maybe he's finally starting to believe it in a way that doesn't just apply to the people he hooks up with or, on the rare occasion, gets into relationships with. He's starting to believe it in a way that doesn't just apply to the boredom he gets after they've worn out their welcome in his life.

In fact, he doesn't think it's possible for Alec to ever wear out his welcome, no matter what might happen. Alec is different. And maybe it's not in a good way, in a healthy way, but it's also in a way that Magnus needs.

This makes him pause for a different reason because it's the first time he's realized he needs Alec just as much as Alec might need him. He realizes that with everything that's happened, with all of this mystery and not knowing, he's changed for the better. He's stopped judging people for their looks, their clothes, the way they carry themselves. He's started to look past the superficialness of it all to see that there's more to a person than they might let on. He's no longer as self-centered as he used to be because while he's always comforted others when they were upset about something, he's never really _been there _for them. Magnus has never put anyone before himself.

To be honest, it scares him that that's changed.

* * *

When Alec pulls up to the small, unassuming coffee shop tucked away between two name-brand stores covered in horrid flashing lights, he doesn't really know what he's expecting. He's not expecting Magnus to be there already, he knows he's a half-hour early, so it's not like he thinks he'll be sitting there waiting for him when he goes in. No, he doesn't know what to expect in terms of himself.

Maybe he thought he'd be more nervous. He _is _nervous, obviously, it's just not in that awful, gut-wrenching way that makes him feel like he should really be bending over that trash can over there and puking his guts out instead of sitting in his car staring at the little shop in front of him. Except, he hadn't actually expected to be nervous either, not like that. So it's not exactly surprising that he's not panicking.

Maybe what he was expecting was to not be alone for it. Alec has gotten so used to the conversations no one else can hear and the people no one else can see that it's strange and almost unnerving to be without them. Even though this has become a more regular occurrence since Magnus came into his life in a haze of glitter and safety, he still can't bring himself to get used to it. He can't bring himself to get his hopes up that it'll all just stay gone this time because it never does. It always come crashing down around him even harder than before.

It's only natural, then, for Alec to flip down the vanity mirror above him to check that there's nothing in the backseat he doesn't remember putting there. He purses his lips when he takes note of the figure silently staring back at him, the strange one from before. It reaches forward, like it had last time, and rests it's hand against his shoulder, once again confirming to him that it's not real. It makes Alec freeze because he still can't understand why this one is so different from the other. Why it always wants to make sure he knows it's not real, why it never speaks or twists the world around him into a grotesque image to haunt the worst of his nightmares.

Alec doesn't understand the kindness he sees in it, the comfort it gives him. Somehow, it reminds him of a blurry, distorted thing in his mind he can't make any clearer no matter how hard he tries. It's not uncommon for them to be representations of pieces of reality, that's not what bothers him, it's just uncommon for him not to know _what _piece that is.

He slams the mirror back up in a sudden burst of irritability and frustration, hands moving to clench at the steering wheel. He notes he's just wasted fifteen minutes as he glances over at the numbers glaring at him from his dashboard. Stamping down on the last few flickers of anger he feels bubbling under his skin, Alec throws the car door open with too much force and swings his legs around to stand on the cracked pavement of the busy street.

Alec's car rattles with the force he uses to slam the car door shut again but he ignores it in favour of glancing around warily at his surroundings as he leans his front against the vehicle, arms propped up on top of it. He's never been here before, it was Magnus' idea and honestly he doesn't really see the difference between it and any other street. He does see why Magnus might like it here, what with clothing stores dominating most of the shop spaces and quaint little cafés taking up the rest. The one they'd chosen to meet at seems to be the most normal-looking of them all, or at least it's the only one with an english name.

The street's not overly busy, something Alec is relieved by, with few people wandering on the sidewalks and even fewer cars parked along the sides. There's something welcoming about it that Alec has never felt anywhere else in the town before. Maybe it's the lack of endless, deafening noise that eases him more than the busy roads in town. He feels safer here.

Alec breathes in the cold winter air and gets a taste of rich french cuisine from the restaurant on the other side of the street. He glances over at it, still leaning his front against his car, and notes a happy elderly couple just exiting through the revolving set of doors. He watches in silence for a moment as they make their way over to a beat up old buggy nearby hand in hand before the man opens the door for the woman, closing it behind her and moving around to the driver's side.

For some reason, that simple gesture strikes Alec somewhere he's always tried to avoid being hit, granted he's also always been better at patching up the wounds than dodging the blows. Maybe it hits him hard because it's something he's never had in his life. His parents have always been on shaky ground with each other and his father's affairs had never helped that much, nor had them always being gone on business trips. There was no love in the Lightwood household but for that between Alec and his siblings.

He knows that that didn't help him at all. He knows it wasn't exactly one of the things that used to hold him together, but rather one that helped break him apart.

* * *

Isabelle picks up her pink, be-jewelled phone for the fifth time in the past two minutes. She worries her bottom lip as she flicks her thumb across the screen to unlock it and taps on the contact button. Her finger hovers over a name on the list, the way it has been since Alec drove off without providing any information as to where he was going or when he'd be back. She scrolls down her list of contacts and swipes to call one of them, an impulsive decision she might have been better off not making.

It rings for what seems like forever and in that time she finds herself chewing on her nails, a habit she'd thought she'd kicked years ago. As it starts to ring for the fourth time, she can feel the heavy weight of worry in her chest begin to unravel, working it's way into every part of her being. She hates this feeling, one she only gets when Alec's involved.

"Hello?" Isabelle almost startles when a voice finally comes echoing down the line at her. He sounds a little off, but she doesn't stop to question it.

"Magnus? Sorry, but are you with Alec?" She has no reason to sound so desperate, she tries to push it back. She knows that this is why Alec doesn't open up to her at all; she worries too much. Alec doesn't like to worry others.

"Uh, oh, yeah, no. I'm— I mean, we're meeting in a few minutes. Why?" Isabelle frowns, she's never heard Magnus speak like that before. He's always been so organised, witty and clever and sharp and clear even when he was so desperate, asking about Alec. It's disconcerting.

"Just wondering. I saw him leaving and didn't know where he was going so um— but it's all good now. No worries. Forget this ever happened," she says and she realizes that she too isn't speaking the way she normally would. This is the effect Alec has always had on her though, so it's nothing new.

Magnus' laugh sounds through the phone and Isabelle finds a small smile smoothing out her worry-wrinkled features. "It's okay, Iz. You're just being a good, worry-wart, sister," he says and she counts him as lucky, not being able to receive her glare through the phone.

"Oh, haha Magnus. Very funny. Thank you. I'm hanging up now," she snarks back, pulling the phone away from her ear and slamming her thumb onto the red symbol of a phone glowing at her from the screen. She sighs, knowing Alec will be safe with Magnus.

Or, at least, she hopes so.

* * *

Magnus turns his car onto the right road and pulls over on the side of it, in the closest empty parking space to the café. His hands are still sweaty as he fumbles to get his door open and he almost trips getting out. His mind is running like a broken record, the same thoughts tumbling around in it as they have been for the past few hours.

Honestly, he's slightly terrified. This is new, and he's said that before but it's true and it scares him. He doesn't know what he's doing here, hasn't done it a thousand times before. He's never been in a relationship like this before, one that meant more than sex and stupid fun. Of course, he does have fun with Alec when they're joking around, teasing each other like it's simply something second nature to them, but there's so much more than that too.

Magnus isn't just afraid of the newness of it all though, he's also terrified of all the what ifs, still. He can't quite convince himself that this won't ruin everything, in the same way he can't quite convince himself that it will. He also can't convince himself not to worry about it, unfortunately.

He's shocked to note his palms are sweaty as he closes the car door and wipes them awkwardly off on his pants. Magnus focuses on his breathing for the millionth time, until it goes back to a steady rhythm of _in out, in out. _It helps to calm his racing heart, granted not by much.

By the time he's finally started towards the little café, his phone is informing him he's already ten minutes late. Knowing Alec, he's probably been there for the past forty. With that though at the forefront of his mind, Magnus speeds up, all but running to the front door. He attempts to push it open, unsuccessfully, only to realize there's a sign on the door that says pull. Oh God, he's an idiot. He hopes Alec didn't see that.

Magnus glances around as the door swings shut behind him, looking for a head of ruffled black hair amongst the seated customers filling the store. He catches sight of Alec over by the window, hands tangled in his hair, elbows on the table, head turned down so he can't see his face. Magnus hesitates.

This is the last chance he has not to do this, to avoid it completely. Sure, he could always say afterwards that it wasn't going to work but by then things would already be different. It's right now, at this moment, that he has to decide if he wants to take the risk.

He takes a slow step slowly, picking up pace as he nears his destination.

Alec looks up with a start as he slides into the booth across from him. There's a brief moment where their eyes don't quite meet and Magnus feels a panic attack beginning to churn in the pit of his stomach before all of a sudden blue eyes meet green and nothing else matters but this.

He doesn't know why he was so nervous.

* * *

_**Follow, favourite and review :)**_


	12. And We Weep

**_This chapter is early to thank you guys for over ONE HUNDRED reviews! Oh my God, I love you guys! Thank you all so much, it wouldn't have been possible without a single one of you :) A lot of you also went and read the two other stories I posted: "Simple As This" which is a drabble, and "Been There, Done That" which is another multi-chaptered story. I'd like to thank everyone who read those as well, you're awesome :)_**

**_Special thanks goes to PennamePersona and SherryBane for reviewing every chapter (also to everyone else who reviewed every chapter), PMing with me and making me feel really freaking awesome XD_**

**_I honest to God cried _again_ at Isabelle's part. Why do I keep doing this?_**

**_Follow, favourite, review and enjoy! _**

* * *

_January 9th_

* * *

Magnus shivers against the cold winter air and pushes his hands further into the tiny pockets of his bright skinny jeans. He regrets not having brought a thicker coat, now that he feels like he's freezing to death. It'd been due to the fact that he's always had high body heat, so therefore he's used to not having to layer up so much in the winter and hadn't even thought to wear something appropriate for the cold. For some reason though, this chill has all but frozen him into a giant block of ice. He feels like his hands are going to fall off any second now from hypothermia.

Magnus feels fingers pulling his right hand out of his all but nonexistent pocket and linking through his, heat radiating from them and warming the aching muscles in his hand. He casts his eyes over to Alec, beside him, with a gentle smile touching his face, though Alec is still staring straight ahead. Somehow that makes it all feel more real, the fact he hadn't had to put enough thought into grabbing his hand that he'd had to look to do it. It's not even anything big really, but Magnus has learned to take joy in the little things.

He glances down at their intertwined hands and his smile stretches into an easy grin. He can do this now. _They _can do this. They can touch all they want, in fact, they can even kiss. Granted, they haven't yet, not tonight at least, but it's the idea of it that he's clinging to. He feels like the whole world is a better place all of a sudden, though he knows that is most definitely not true. So maybe it's just his world that's gotten better.

Magnus tightens his grip on Alec's hand as he turns to look down the path they're following. They're in their park now, the setting of seemingly every important step in their relationship, no matter how small. They'd spent hours at the quiet little café before they'd come here, talking and laughing and just _working_; the way they always have. They'd stayed there right up until it'd closed, the owners shooing them off with friendly smiles and a waved bill. Magnus, while always having believed in the kindness of strangers, had simply smiled back and exchanged grateful words with them for a moment before turning to a frowning Alec, who probably barely believed in kindness from anyone— let alone strangers. Magnus had just dragged him off to his car, telling him he'd drop him back off there later to pick up his own, and then they'd simply started driving.

It's been so easy for Magnus to get lost in this, in the incredible feeling of exhilaration that comes every time he looks at Alec and thinks _he can have this_. It's not impossible anymore. It's not a wild, crazy idea floating in the back of his mind, even if it'd always been buried deep under his worry for Alec. It's not this unreachable dream weighing down his conscience in every waking second, not anymore.

As he glances out across the great expanses of grass on either side of them, at the empty benches lining the path they're walking on, at the streetlamps casting pools of light onto the cobblestone, he finds that he's comforted by the familiarity of it. They've spent more nights here together than he can count anymore, have sat curled together on a worn wooden bench and looked out at the fields of grass hidden in the shadows, together. They've cried here together, they've spoken, _really _spoken, here together. This is where the progress has always seemed to be made for them, _together_. Sure, there are bits and pieces that have taken place in other locations; Magnus' apartment, the school hallway, the coffee shop, over the phone as they both lay curled in their beds. But this, this is where they become closer, where Magnus catches the biggest glimpses into Alec's world, where Alec cracks his doors open just that tiny bit more each time, where they sit and cry together and never seem to feel so alone as before.

Somehow, it's satisfying that they have a place of their own. That they have this special, perfect corner of the world no one else will disturb when they're there because it's dark and it's after midnight and who else meets up in a park at this time? No one. It's special, it's theirs and it's a familiar comfort to both of them just to be there.

"Magnus?" he hears whispered from the beautiful boy beside him. He looks over at him in question, taking in the hesitation in those incredible blue eyes as well as something that looks akin to guilt, though Magnus doesn't know why Alec would be feeling guilty right now. It's Alec though, so he doesn't dwell on it for long.

"Yeah?" he replies, staring deep into the deep blue eyes fixed on his own. Alec doesn't say anything for a moment, looking unsure, and then he breathes in almost imperceptibly and opens his mouth to speak. Magnus braces himself for anything, for the worst.

"I'm sorry," he says and Magnus is reminded of the first night they'd met here, of whispered apologies and this sadness he couldn't shake. It reminds him of lips wet with tears brushing against his own and then this awful knowledge that it didn't change anything. That it never would.

"For what?" he asks, the same as that first time and just like then, Alec looks away. He closes his eyes and Magnus can see his breaths get deeper. He feels tempted to reach out to him, to pull him closer but he resists the urge. He's not so sure that would help.

"For not—" and Magnus gets it, tightening his grip on the other boy's hand once more as he cuts him off.

"It's okay," he says. "I know." It's all he needs to say and Alec turns his head towards him again, a sad smile just brushing across his face. While it makes Magnus want to cry, it's still one of the most beautiful things he's ever seen; the way so many things with Alec are. He places a hand on Alec's cheek and runs his thumb across it, catching the single tear that falls. It's strange, how he's seen Alec cry before— at this very park— and yet it's never been so painful to watch. Somehow, it's never been so real and so sad. He doesn't know why, though maybe it's because he knows more now. He knows Alec just that tiny bit better than he did before.

"Thank you," Alec whispers back and Magnus isn't quite sure what he's being thanked for but somewhere deep down, he gets it. He smiles at him softly and leans down to press their lips together, feeling Alec shift ever so slightly closer to him. And just like that first night here, there's just their lips, Alec's wet tears sliding down both their cheeks and Magnus' sigh.

Except this time, it changes everything.

* * *

When Isabelle hears the distant sound of car tires crunching on the gravel of their driveway, she throws herself off her bed faster than she'd thought possible and races for her bedroom door. It hits the wall with a bang when she pulls it open and speeds through it, not bothering to close it behind her as she all but runs down the hall. She's right at the top of the stairs, about to move down them, when the sound of keys in the lock echoes through the foyer and the front door creaks open.

She breathes a sigh of relief as she sees her brother step through the doorway and into the house. She'd been so worried, regardless of the fact she'd _known _he was with Magnus. It hadn't meant for sure he'd be safe, that he wasn't going to do something stupid, and had therefore done little to ease her panic as the minutes had dragged on into hours and hours and hours of pacing with her phone clutched tight in her hands. Maybe it had helped at first, the knowledge he was with Magnus, but it didn't last.

Alec glances up when he hears her exhale, the sound echoing loudly through the silence of the open room. He looks hesitant to move any further into the house, to even move at all, and she knows that's her fault. She opens her mouth to say something to him, _anything_, but nothing comes out and she ends up closing it again just as quickly. He's still looking at her with a wary expression and guilt begins to churn in her stomach where the worry had been.

She places one foot on the next step of the stairs, then the other, so she's standing that much closer to him. There's still a thousand little levels between them, a thousand steps that feel like miles, and they're the ones that have always been there; the ones she can never move past to get to him. It seems like there is always going to be this distance between them, no matter how hard she tries to wish it away. She can't, can't even dream of reaching her brother. He's too far away from her.

"Isabelle?" he asks and she draws a shaky breath again, feeling the beginnings of tears burning at the backs of her eyes. He always calls her that now, unless he's in the middle of a psychotic breakdown and not thinking straight, not thinking at all. It's just another little thing to show how far apart they are, how much the distance between them has grown. He never used to call her that, not for the first eleven years of her life. Now, it's all he will ever call her and it feels so distant and impersonal. It feels so much like she's lost her brother completely.

"Alec," she says and it's breathy and soft and even she can hear the sadness and desperation in it. Something clouds over his expression as he finally takes another step into the house, towards her. She's afraid to breathe now, afraid he'll blow away from her if she does. She's afraid he'll turn around and walk right back out the door if she opens her mouth the wrong way. She's afraid he'll get in his car and drive out of her, out of _their_, lives forever if she says the wrong thing. It's irrational, like so many of her recent thoughts have been, but it's a real fear that seizes her and refuses to let go. It won't so much as loosen it's grip on her, no matter how many ways she tries to dispel it.

"You're still awake," her brother notes. His expression is still guarded, closed off, in the way she's grown accustomed to. She hates it. She wishes she knew what he was thinking, wishes she just knew _him_ but she doesn't. He won't let her. And that, that is more painful than any physical wound she could ever receive; the fact that she doesn't know her own brother, who has been right there beside her her entire life.

"Yeah," she replies quietly, no louder than a whisper. What she wants to say is _I was waiting for you_ but she knows it wouldn't help. It would only push him further away from her, that one little comment. She wants him to know he's not doing her any favours by blocking her out but she knows, damnit she knows, it'll only make things so much worse. She can't be there for her brother, no matter how much wants to be because he won't let her. She doesn't think she'll ever be able to.

Alec just stares at her for a long while and she stares right back, brown eyes and blue locked together as the seconds stretch on. There is no shift in his expression, not a single little twitch and it would be unnerving if she wasn't used to this. This is her Alec, this is the Alec she is allowed to see. The one who stares blankly into her eyes and doesn't say a word to her about anything that matters even just the tiniest bit. She wonders if he can see how close she is to crying.

Eventually she looks away and he moves up the stairs past her, careful not to so much as brush against her as he does. She watches him go without a word, not asking the million questions she knows she won't get a single answer for. He doesn't look back even once as he leaves, disappearing into his room with nothing but the echo of a door slamming shut to prove he'd ever really been there at all. When she's sure he's gone, she slides down the banister onto the step she'd been standing on and curls her knees up to her chest.

She hopes he can't hear her sobs.

* * *

_**Follow, favourite and review :)**_


	13. And We Recall

**_Alright, so I have a lot of very important news for all you guys this time so this will be along AN:_**

**_Uber Important: First off, there is a big chance that there will be no update next week because my exams start Thursday so unless I write the next chapter this weekend, there won't be an update._**

**_Mildly Important: Second, please check out my tumblr (my URL is the same as here, wolvesinboundary, and I've already said this on BTDT) where I will post when I'll be updating any of my stories, news about them (like the no update thing) and random other things I like :) Please feel free to message me there too (or here) even just to say hi XD I'll love you for it!_**

**_Pretty Important_****_:_****_ Because less than an eighth of you actually review, starting now you guys should _all_ review _every chapter_ because _every single time _you do I will read and review one chapter/ one-shot of one of yours :) If you don't have any writing up yet, I'll follow you instead so that when you do I can read it. Now that's motivation to review! Right?_**

**_Incredibly Important READ THIS:_****_ I _need _all of your opinions on this. So, Sizzy is going to be incorporated into this verse because it is very important, especially to Isabelle's character development and therefore relationship with Alec, which seriously affects the whole thing I think. However, it is up to you guys whether you would like that to be in a separate companion story or to be in this one. Malec is definitely still _the main _focus of this story no matter what and I doubt there will ever be a chapter that is only Sizzy (unless it is very important, and unavoidable) in this story, if that's the option you choose, so don't worry about that. Personally, it would probably be easier for me to have it in this story but it's _entirely _up to you guys!_**

**_Anyways, sorry for the long AN but it's important, so yeah :) This chapter is full of hints and tips and fore-shadowing so subtle I'll be surprised if even half of you pick up on it because I wouldn't if I didn't know what it was leading to. It is therefore also a very important chapter :) Enjoy the chapter and don't forget to follow, favourite and review!_**

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_January 10th_

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_The sky is clear, an endless sea of baby blue with not a cloud in sight. The sun shines bright, glowing a brilliant, blinding yellow. The grass glitters green, too long and coated with glistening drops of early morning dew. This is a good day, one of many. It's an ordinary day, one of plenty. It's just a day, like the thousands that followed before it and the thousands that will follow after._

_There's no reason to think it will be any different, so he doesn't._

_The little dark-haired boy dances freely across the great expanses of grass like a beautiful bird of paradise swooping high and low and simply letting the air currents carry it, too young to have a care in the world. He isn't thinking of the future, of the weight and the worry it will bring down on him soon. He isn't thinking of the past, of the pain and the darkness it's clouded his life with, of the shadows it will bring to his home. He is thoughtless, racing with the wind even though he must know he'll never beat it._

_The boy turns mid-stride, looking back at another behind him, and the wind he'd been racing with seems to turn with him. His grin is contagious as well as his joy and soon they are both running through the tall grass and catching the dew drops settled on it as they go. Laughter echoes through the air around them, back to their listening ears and for a moment all is perfect, all is well._

_He should have known it wouldn't last._

_The sky is clouded by a raging storm, a dark grey mass casting shadows across the little boy and the other. The sun is gone, hidden behind the murky billow of smoke-like clouds taking up the sky. The grass is gone too, harsh black pavement in its place. This is an awful day, and it won't be the last. It's a horrid day, one that will never be forgotten. And yet, it's still just a day, like the thousands that followed before it and the thousands that will follow after._

_The little dark-haired boy doesn't stop running, dancing across the pavement like it's still just nice, soft grass that will cushion any fall he might suffer. He spins away from the other, who reaches for him desperately but stumbles and falls and has no hope of catching him in time. He isn't thinking of the dangers, of the screaming and the crying and the pleading that will follow thereafter. He isn't thinking of the future, not of the darkness and the shadows and the tears he will leave in his wake. He isn't thinking of what this will do to his home, of the growing distance and the growing silence and the growing worry that will come. He is thoughtless, and that is why it happens._

_He isn't thinking of the car that speeds towards him._

His eyes fly open, fluttering across the vast darkness of his ceiling before settling on a fixed point straight in front of him. He can feel something wet running down his cheeks but he doesn't reach up in an attempt to uncover what it is; he doesn't think he has the strength. He can't breathe, sucking in breaths that don't seem to all make it to his lungs and he feels like if he moves he'll fall apart. Maybe he will, and it's not an irrational thought at all.

He can feel sweat clinging to every inch of his body, sticking his shirt to his back uncomfortably and his pants to his legs unpleasantly. He feels awful and gross and sick, though that might not be from his body's current state. In fact, it's much more likely due to the flutter of slowly settling panic he can still feel in his chest, the panic that had woken him up by nearly giving him a heart-attack. He tries not to think that it might have been good if it actually had, if that right there had simply been the end to him.

Maybe then he wouldn't feel so awful.

Eventually, though, he does work up the courage to move; running the pad of his thumb over one of his cheeks and watching as it comes away wet. He stares at it absently, barely even registering it. He's not surprised to find he's been crying, he always does after _these_ nights. These nights where his exhausted mind finally forces him to let it shut down and he collapses into his bed fully-clothed and aching with the need to rest. These nights where he wakes to sweat and tears and panic and guilt and grief and everything he so hates to feel.

They're always the same, in the end. He dreams of bright skies and green grass and then the sun turns into the headlights of an approaching car, the green grass molding into the blur of it as it screeches across the road, sliding in the puddles left over from the rain. It's odd, he thinks, how sometimes he finds he doesn't mind the nightmarish memory clawing at his brain because at least for those few blissful moments, he dreams. And, before the dream twists its way into a nightmare, he gets to see the face of someone he's long since started to forget the appearance of, no matter how much he's tried to cling to them.

The funny thing is, his goods days are the ones that follow the nightmarish dream. At least, before Magnus came and brought many more of them they were. It used to be a good sign to him, waking up sweaty, with wet cheeks and a dry throat, or even just _waking up_. It used to mean it would all be real for a day, that he wouldn't have to worry about whether or not the faces in the mirror were actually there. Now, however, he's not so sure.

Maybe this is why Alec doesn't get up, at least not right away. He stares at the ceiling for another moment longer and then over at the pen and paper sitting on his dresser, beside his battered phone. He feels this sudden itch to write, to watch the notes flow across the paper like they would through the air if he were to play them. He has an urge to watch words scribble across the perfect sheet of white in runny black ink and be able to hear them echoing in his head, in a different way than the voices. He feels an urge to escape, to fall into it as he writes and to lose himself in it; to leave this world he feels so trapped in for a while.

He slides one leg out from under the tangle of sheets strewn across his bed and places it slowly on the ground. The other leg follows, pins and needles dancing up it as it begins to lose the numb feeling it'd gotten through the night. He pushes himself completely off the bed with a great amount of effort that he knows probably isn't right and pads across the cold wood of his floor to the dresser. He pauses halfway there, glancing over at the shards of broken mirror still sitting in a pile by the corner of the room. The light glints off of it in eerie ways, jagged lines of it cutting through the shadows of his room like knives. He shakes his head and moves the rest of the way over to his dresser.

He finds his hands fluttering over his phone for a brief moment as he stares at the cracked screen, momentarily forgetting what he'd gotten up for. He'd done that the night before, broken the battered old device, though the memory of why is cloudy to him. He remembers frustration and rage, remembers the panic he always associates with the things that aren't real; the things only he can see. He remembers a crash as it hit the wall. He remembers his throat being sore from yelling, though he doesn't know what he was yelling about. Isabelle's face is mixed into it all as well, wide brown eyes full of worry and love and that desperation that always feels like knife twisting in his gut.

Thinking about it brings the feelings back and he starts to feel like he's suffocating so he pulls his hand back and turns his gaze to the pad of faded blank staff paper beside the broken device. His old scratched guitar pick sits next to it and for a moment that's what grabs his wandering attention next. It brings back past memories of times he used to think were happy, but that now only seem to hurt or bring back the boiling rage he's just gotten a handle on.

He doesn't like those feelings so much either, and he quickly tears his eyes away before reaching for the pen and paper that had been his original focus. He glances at the dark square on his wall above his dresser as he does, the place where the mirror used to hang. Alec doesn't dwell on it though and soon he's moving over to the window, where the only source of light in the room spills through the cracks between the two curtains that cover it. He slides to the ground, leaning against it so the slivers of light hit the blank staff paper and then he simply sets his pen against the page and starts to write, the weight on his heart seeming to slip off and onto the page with every new note.

This is going to be good day after all.

* * *

Isabelle has always carried her memories with her like they are the most precious creations she will ever know. She has held them tightly deep within her to keep them from being tainted by the reality that is the present, where those memories are all but forgotten by everyone else. However, there are some memories that Isabelle clings to more than others— memories she can't bear to forget no matter how painful they are to remember. Maybe it's because they're reminders that things weren't always like this, that this isn't the only way things _can _be. Maybe it's because they make her feel closer to the people who have drifted away from her, the people who have pushed her away. Maybe it's because she wants so desperately to hold onto a time when she had an older brother even if it's painful because she doesn't anymore. She has lost so much with him, has lost the pieces of herself she'd always thought Alec would hold onto for her. So maybe it's simply because she loves him and she wants to remember a time when they were happy, when _he _was happy.

Isabelle's most precious memory, the one she clings to more desperately than any other, is one that she finds herself drifting back to more and more often as this silence stretching over a distance that continues to grow continues to carry her brother further away from her. Except, it isn't even a happy memory that she cares for the most. In fact, it's one of the saddest she has but her brother, her dear, dear brother she loves so much was there and that's why it's so precious to her. He was _there_, like he never is anymore.

She's eight in it, her brother just turned ten, and it's the day she comes home early from school with a sick stomach only to find her parents screaming at each other in the kitchen. She creeps towards it quietly, unease only making her aching stomach hurt worse. The door is wide open and she stops abruptly, staring at the woman only a few feet away. Her mother, her beautiful, strong mother is crying; black tendrils of tears and mascara running down her cheeks. Isabelle is shocked speechless, not moving a muscle as she stands in the entrance to the kitchen and takes in the scene before her.

Her parents are on opposite sides of the counter, her mother leaning against it like she might fall over if she doesn't and her father standing haughtily with his arms crossed and an angry expression on his face that Isabelle has only ever seen when Jace drags Alec into trouble with him, and even then it barely compares. It's a foreign look and it does nothing to ease her sinking stomach. As if that weren't enough, there's scattered pieces of a broken plate strewn across the floor and a cup knocked over on the counter, water running out of it like a stream. Neither of them see her, her mother's gaze locked on the counter as she tries to make the tears stop and her father's locked on her mother as he glares.

"I didn't do anything wrong," he says harshly and her mother lets out a breathy laugh that makes Isabelle want to cry right along with her. She doesn't understand what's going on, why her father looks so angry or why her mother's crying. It's not something she's seen from either of them before, at least not on such a large scale. She tries not to be so terrified.

"Didn't do anything wrong? _Really_, Robert? How can you say that?" her voice starts off strong and echoing with the aftershocks of her laughter but her voice cracks at the last bit and Isabelle knows it was an act. Her eyes are darting between the two most important adults in her life wildly as she tries to make sense of what's going on. She remains frozen in the doorway.

"I just don't love you anymore. Is that so wrong?" he snaps at her and Isabelle forgets how to breathe. He doesn't love her mother anymore? How is that possible? How can you fall out of love with someone? Someone you've built a family with? Does that mean he doesn't love her either? Or Alec?

"I'm _pregnant, _Robert, and you're off fucking some other girl!" her mother hisses back and this time Isabelle gasps out loud because her mother has never sworn before and she's pregnant and did what she just said mean that her father's cheating? No, no, no, he wouldn't do that. Except that her mother is crying and her father is angry and it all makes sense suddenly. She feels _really _sick now.

Both of her parents' heads snap towards her and her mother's eyes go wide, hand clapping over her mouth as her husband's face goes completely unreadable. Suddenly her mother is rushing towards her, pulling her into her arms as she moves them both out into the hall. She mutters something about coming to talk to her later and waiting in her room and then she disappears back into the kitchen and Isabelle is left alone, though that's nothing new to her. She turns quickly when the yelling starts up again and races up the stairs to her room.

She doesn't even hear the door slam shut behind her as she speeds towards her bed, climbing under the covers and wrapping them around her completely, blocking out the rest of the world. She makes a little fort out of the covers and sits in it crossed-legged with her hands in her lap, staring down at them for a moment before everything just _hits _her. There, in the safety of the little tent she's made out of her blankets, she lets it out and begins to sob uncontrollably as she wraps her arms around herself and rocks back and forth.

It's hours later, hours that feel like mere minutes, that her door creaks open and she hears footsteps padding softly across her room towards the bed. Her mother had said she'd come back up to talk to her, but Isabelle doesn't want to _talk_. She wants to cry and scream and break things and cling desperately to the stuffed bear her father bought her when she was three. She just wants to be alone.

Except it isn't her mother who gently pulls the tent of a blanket off her and settles beside her on the bed, wrapping lanky but gentle and familiar arms around her as she continues to sob. It's her brother, precious and perfect and suddenly she wishes she wasn't crying at all because she doesn't want him to see how weak she is. She wants to be strong in front of him, her hero, so that he'll be proud of her. Really, though, she just wants to be as strong as Alec.

He doesn't say anything, just pulls her tight against him and lets her curl into his chest as she weeps for reasons he can't imagine. She doesn't speak either, simply taking comfort in her brother's warm embrace. An hour passes like that, the two of them wrapped together on her bed and silently Isabelle thinks this is all she needs. Her parents can never speak to each other again, can despise each other completely and eternally for all she cares. At least she knows for sure that her brother still loves her, and that that will never change.

"Don't they love each other?" is the only thing she says that night and Alec doesn't question who she's talking about. He just rests his face gently against her hair and tightens his hold on her as he purses his lips before answering quietly and softly, like he somehow _knows _these are going to be some of the most important words they will ever share.

"Love isn't always enough," he says and at the time Isabelle doesn't know how much this will mean for them one day. She doesn't know that one day it will apply to them too, not just their parents. She doesn't know the pain this simple fact will cause them.

Later, her mother will find the two of them curled up together on her bed and her tears will only flow harder. She'll let out a quiet sob, nothing more than the shake of her shoulders and a hand pressed over her mouth to stifle it, as she turns out the lights and looks on at her two children. Her other hand will press against her stomach where the third grows and she will turn away quickly, closing the door behind her. She'll pull in raspy breaths as she leans against the wall of the hallway and she'll wish desperately that things were still the same; that love like that between her two children were a constant throughout the entire family. She will wish things would never change.

When Isabelle thinks back on the memory, as she so often does when clinging to the memory of a being close to the brother she barely even knows anymore, she wonders if she should have told Alec what had upset her. She wonders if it would have made a difference, if it would have made things better or worse. Honestly, she's not sure it would have changed anything.

It's an awful memory that she looks back on fondly sometimes, remembering when this distance between them was non-existent. Because the thing is, no matter how painful it might be, she wonders if maybe that was actually a good day for them because it wasn't long after that that everything started to fall apart between them. She wonders if it was the _last_ good day for them. She can't remember another, other than the day their baby brother was born. Except even that had been clouded with mistrust and a harsh, tangent feeling of no love between her parents as they'd looked down at the beautiful baby boy and hated to see pieces of the other in him. Isabelle wonders if maybe that's the day that everything that had slowly been heading downhill suddenly plunged to the bottom and left nothing at the top but the distant, fading memories of what used to be.

She wonders sometimes if, one day, memories will be all she has of Alec.

* * *

_**Why do Izzy's parts always make me cry? I should really stop writing myself into tears. Anyways, follow, favourite, review and let me know how you'd like me to do the Sizzy part of this, because I seriously need to know what you want.**_


	14. Interlude

**_Hey guys! An update! I finished this last weekend, a few hours after I posted the last chapter, so I have something to post today! As you might have noticed, I'm calling this an interlude because it is all from Isabelle's p.o.v and covers her and Simon's relationship up until where the story is now because you guys are awesome and voted to just include it here :) Like I said before though, this is a malec fic so there won't be any chapters that are just Sizzy, apart from this one. Actually, this one has both Magnus and Alec in it so I suppose it's not _only_ Sizzy :P For those of you reading Been There Done That, I don't know when the update will be. Maybe sometime later this week after my exams are over? I don't know. Also, over the summer this might update twice a week but I'm not sure :)_**

**_Now why the hell do I keep making myself cry here? And it's just Isabelle's parts! This never used to happen! I was legitimately crying so hard I had to take a break from writing because I couldn't see the screen O.O I should stop doing this to myself._**

**_Anyways, same thing applies here: you review my story and I'll review yours once I have the time :) Because otherwise hardly any of you review which is very sad :'(_  
**

* * *

_14_

* * *

When the ratty-looking boy Isabelle had first seen in her English class earlier that day plops down into the seat beside her, she isn't thrilled. Of course, it _is_ marginally better than sitting alone on the first day of school because none of her friends have the same timetable as her. Still, he's not much of an improvement and she'd almost rather just suffer through the first few weeks being that awkward one who can never find a partner for projects. All well, maybe he'll at least be good at science; she certainly isn't.

Isabelle tries not to pay too much attention to the fact that he stares at her more than the screen the teacher's displaying their note on, but it's a nearly impossible feat. It doesn't exactly make her uncomfortable— she's used to catching everyone who doesn't matter's eyes —it's just that she finds it rather curious considering she hasn't even said a word to him. Isabelle doesn't concern herself with it though and simply carries on copying down the note she's beginning to think might be in some form of archaic Latin. At least, that's what it looks like to her.

And then all of a sudden the bell is ringing and she's throwing her stuff into a pile so she can get out of there as fast as possible and he's _still staring at her_. Isabelle pauses, standing beside his seated form, and glances down at him with a raised eyebrow and a perfect bitchy look in place on her face. She's mildly hoping it will make him stop looking at her like that, with warm brown eyes and a closed off expression she can't decipher. She hates not knowing what someone thinks of her.

"Can I help you?" she says, intentionally making the bitchiness bleed into her voice as well. He seems to hesitate, looking up at her carefully with this odd mixture of awe and sadness and admiration and warmth and kindness and for a moment she feels slightly scared. No one has ever looked at her with so much feeling, at least, not since Alec.

His face lights up suddenly, a gentle smile stretching across it that just scares Isabelle even more. He stands, long fingers wrapping around his books as he goes, and then they're face to face and she feels this urge to look away, feels like he can see so much more than anyone else before. She doesn't want him to.

"You're beautiful," he says and she's taken aback. Only Alec has ever called her that, and that was before— just before. "You shouldn't be so sad," he adds and then he's gone, classroom door swinging shut behind him and she's left standing there alone, shock keeping her frozen to the spot.

_Sad? _she thinks, frowning. _Am I sad? _She almost rolls her eyes at herself, pulling her pile of things closer to her chest as she moves to start towards the door. _No, I'm not. I'm fine. I have no reason to be sad. Therefore, I am not. He's fucking crazy. _Content, she flips her hair over her shoulder and marches out of the classroom purposefully, turning heads as she goes.

Later, she might wonder how he knew.

* * *

_15, October_

* * *

Isabelle scowls down at the bright pink phone in her hands angrily as she slams her locker shut. Of course her stupid boyfriend would break up with her over text, like the asshole he is. Well, it's his loss anyways and besides, she can have whoever she wants; she doesn't need him. She doesn't even like him, not in the slightest. Still, the jerk could have done it in person rather than over _freaking _text. So sue her, she can be as angry as she damn well pleases at him. He deserves to feel her wrath.

She tries not to growl as she makes her way down the winding hallways of the school to where her brother had decided he wanted to eat. It was probably that annoying redhead, Clary, who actually wanted to sit there and of course stupid Jace would just go along with whatever she said because he's a lovesick moron. God, it's like the whole fucking world is trying to throw other people's love in her face.

She's not jealous. Really, she's not.

She catches sight of Simon hanging around the tiny garden area out front— a pitiful display of four benches and a multitude of dead flowers and trees because _that's _gorgeous apparently— and groans. Isabelle throws herself down onto the nearest unsteady wooden bench as violently as she can and ignores the shocked look she gets from the boy in front of her. It shifts to a frown shortly and then he's gently sinking down onto the bench beside her, shoulder brushing against her own. She tries to shake the memory of the first day they'd met, of the strange words he'd said, and makes a point of shifting as far away from him as possible. Screw him and his stupid niceness. She doesn't want to talk to him, thank you very much.

She can almost feel him rolling his eyes as he simply moves closer to her and throws an arm around her shoulder comfortingly, opening his mouth to speak. Before he can though, she throws his arm off her angrily and crosses her own over her chest. He huffs out a breathy laugh that only serves to further fuel her current seething rage at the entire world and she turns to pin him with a sharp glare.

"What happened?" he asks, undeterred by her violent mood.

"Why do you care?" she snaps and he frowns at her, resting the arm he'd had around her on her shoulder in a move so gentle and kind that it's vaguely terrifying. He tends to have that effect on her quite a lot; bringing forth the small fear she has of the unknown.

"Isabelle," he starts, not noticing her wince at the way he says her name. "We're friends, right? Come on, what's wrong? You don't get angry over nothing." Isabelle has a brief moment then where she wonders when he became so comfortable with her, when he started to creep in close to her until the point where they've become _friends_. Because, if she's being honest, that's what they are. It's a strange concept to her; having a friend who is so far beneath her normal social standards it's almost sad. She shrugs it off and goes back to her boiling rage. She's much more used to that.

"The stupid, fucking asshole broke up with me over text. _Over text_," she says and she can hear a breathy laugh escape Simon again. "What?" she snarls at him, feeling even angrier and more wronged than before. She hates the whole world.

"I'm sorry. It's just, Isabelle, you don't even _like _him. Why are you so angry?"

"Clearly, you're missing the point here. _He _broke up with _me _over _text_. No one does that, Simon, no one." He's laughing fully now, his body shaking as he tries to stifle it with his hand and she shakes her head at him in a wordless expression of _hopeless, you're so hopeless_ and then suddenly she's laughing too even though she has no idea why. It isn't funny, not in the slightest, and she's supposed to still be angry. Yet, it's like all of the rage is just suddenly gone. And then she tries not to feel so disappointed when Clary and Jace show up and Simon immediately engages in an animated discussion with the redhead, their moment having passed.

She doesn't succeed.

* * *

_15, December_

* * *

Isabelle watches as her brother passes them by without so much as a single glance their way, the glittery new kid at his side. She wants to say something to him, to reach out and ask him where he's going, why he hasn't been sitting with them recently, who this new boy is. She doesn't though, because it's Alec and she knows he won't answer her. That doesn't stop her wondering about this sudden addition to her brother's circle of people he might speak a few words to on occasion, because it's strange and unsettling and maybe it's actually a good thing. Maybe this will help Alec, in the way that she can't, and will be exactly what he needs. She tries not to get her hopes up too high.

When she turns back to the other three sitting around her, she feels this strange little tingle of _something _as she realizes both of the boys are hanging off of Clary's every word. They both have this look in their eyes like she hangs the sun and stars and their whole worlds revolve around her. It's a sight that makes Isabelle sick to look at, especially so when she glances over at Simon. Isabelle really hates that girl.

She purses her lips as she takes note that she really has absolutely no reason to be there, it's not like any of them are going to give her even a second of their day just to listen to a comment she might like to throw into their conversation at some point; they're all too focused on Clary's words of stupidity. So Isabelle simply stands up and walks away without so much as a nod to any of them, high heels clicking as she goes. They can all go screw themselves while she spends time with people who actually appreciate her, like that hot guy who'd been coming onto her lately.

Except that she doesn't go to the hot guy, she rounds the corner and quickly ducks into the girls' bathroom before anyone sees her. There, she slams a stall door shut behind her and curls up on the toilet seat, trying to convince herself she's not fighting back tears. Isabelle doesn't cry, she doesn't. She's tough and strong and independent and she doesn't get upset over the fact that her friends, that her own _brothers_, don't care about her at all.

It's always been this way, Isabelle being the odd one out who always comes after everyone else. Well, maybe not when her and Alec were younger, when he was her world and she was his and she never had to wonder if he ever really loved her at all. But when Jace came along, the golden boy with all the wit and the talent in the world, she knew she was no longer her brother's first choice. The two boys were closer than she thought she'd ever been to Alec and it hurt, it stung brutally and when she watched the way they were it felt like there was a knife being stabbed into her gut. Wasn't she good enough for them? Couldn't she keep up with their level? Why wouldn't they just _look _at her, for once?

And then there's Simon, who actually did look at her and seemed to see past the flashy bits of herself she'd put on display to attract just _someone's _attention. Stupid, stupid Simon who'd made her finally feel worthy, though she'd managed to convince herself she already did. Stupid, stupid Simon who in the end turned out to be just like her brothers and left her feeling even worse than before, pining after that stupid redheaded bitch like a sick puppy right along with Jace. Stupid, stupid Simon who throws her aside just like her brothers do the moment someone better shows up. What does _Clary _have that she doesn't? What's so special about her? Why do they look at her and not Isabelle? Why isn't she good enough for anyone?

Unwillingly, a sob chokes out of her and she feels a tear slip down her cheek. She wipes it away quickly, trying to fight off the awful feelings in her with the annoyance at the fact she'll have to redo her make-up now. She doesn't leave the stall though, knowing there are more tears to come despite her efforts to keep them at bay, and she wraps her arms tighter around herself as she sobs into her knees. So long as no one comes in the bathroom, this is fine. No one needs to know how pathetic and weak she really is; that'll only make them care about her even less.

She doesn't know how long she sits there, sobbing as quietly as she can and fighting every tear that falls, but eventually she forces herself to stop and get up, get out of the bathroom stall and move to the mirror so she can make herself look beautiful again. She feels like crying for a second time when she sees her reflection because she's hideous, her makeup washed away in dark streaks down her cheeks. She runs her hands under the water spewing from the tap to test for temperature and then wipes away the black lines with it, rummaging through her purse for the make-up she usually carries with her. She knows it takes a while to fix herself, to make herself not look ugly anymore, but when she steps back to take in her newly done-up self, it's not enough. She's still not beautiful, not without the rest of the make-up she left at home.

There's a long moment that passes where she just stares at her reflection in the mirror. She touches her face, her arms, her head, the place on her chest where she can feel her heartbeat, and she wonders which part it is. She wonders which one is the reason she's alone. She wonders if it's her eyes or her weight or her hair or just her heart. She wonders if it's something else entirely, or if it's all of them put together.

When she finally moves to step out of the bathroom, knowing she couldn't succeed in making herself beautiful without the rest of her make-up, she hesitates at the door with her fingers curled weakly around the handle. She glances back over her shoulder at the mirrors behind her and purses her lips before she swings the door open and steps outside. Her heels click as she walks down the hallway, the way they always do.

Simon, Jace and Clary are all just starting to stand up when she turns back down the hallway she'd originally come from and she nearly runs into Simon as she does. He catches her with an easy smile that fades when he takes in her appearance, eyes scanning her face over at a million miles a minute. He frowns, but doesn't say anything as she shoves away from him harshly, hating the fact that he can probably see how ugly she is. Jace doesn't even seem to notice her at all.

She takes off down the hall quickly, in the opposite direction she'd come from, and tries to ignore the weight of his eyes on her back. She realizes it really doesn't matter, he'll go back to Clary in a second and forget she was ever there. Besides, he probably didn't even actually notice how hideous she is because he was still focused on the little bitch he calls his best friend.

For once, she prays that's the truth.

* * *

_15, May_

* * *

Isabelle is at a party with Magnus, some random chick from her school's birthday bash that she really doesn't give a shit about. He's ditched her already, gone off to find something to get drunk on because obviously there's no way either of them are going to get through this sober. She wonders briefly if it's strange that she doesn't mind when it's Magnus who's ignoring her. If it was anybody else, she wouldn't be feeling so indifferent about it. Maybe it's because she's known from the start that she's not his first choice, that her brother will always come before most anyone else for him. Maybe it's because she's hoping he'll get her brother back for her.

She scowls down at the red cup in her hand and sets it carefully on a table nearby, the cheap booze making her feel even sicker than the pitiful excuse for a party they've got going here. She really doesn't want to be here, but she knows Magnus needs this so she pushes back her disgust and forces her way through the crowd to the back door. The fresh air makes her feel marginally better and she sucks it in greedily for a moment before stepping off the back patio and onto the grass. She glances around at the swarms of people absently, hoping Magnus will get his fill of the wild life soon so they can go. She really, _really_, doesn't want to be here anymore.

And then her eyes find a mess of mousy brown hair and a stupid gamer shirt with a lame slogan on it and she feels the breath get knocked out of her. She doesn't want him to talk to her, though she doubts that'll be an issue with the way he's inhaling Clary's every word, so she turns and tries to race back into the house as quickly as she can before he sees her; if he ever tears his eyes away from the little redhead in front of him. Unfortunately, fate chooses this moment to remind her that it's against her and he catches sight of her right as she's about to slide the door open and slip inside to safety.

"Isabelle!" he yells as he jogs over to her and she winces, turning around slowly and plastering on a smile as she does. He stops in front of her, smiling back widely. "I should have known you'd be here too," he says and she immediately tenses, fake smile melting into a bitchy expression. Of course he would think that, that she's some slutty party girl, because when has anyone ever actually payed enough attention to her to realize that that's not her?

"Speaking of being here, what are _you _doing?" she snaps harshly and he looks slightly taken aback by the change in demeanor. A wary look crosses his face and he glances back over his shoulder at Clary, seeming almost guilty.

"Clary wanted to come," he says, turning back to face Isabelle and missing the brief clenching of her teeth.

"Of course," she spits out and he takes a half-step away from her, like he hadn't been expecting that. If she's being fair, he wouldn't have any reason to have been so really it shouldn't piss her off so much.

"Isabelle? You okay?" he asks and she narrows her eyes in a glare at him.

"I'm great," she snarls and then spins abruptly and yanks the door to the house open, stepping inside and throwing it shut behind her violently. She ignores the look he gives her as she storms into the heart of the party to find Magnus so she can drag his glittery ass home already. She is one hundred and ten percent _done_.

Sure enough, Magnus is there and she doesn't even have to say a word for him to understand that they're leaving. He does give her a questioning glance as he follows her back towards the door she'd just come out of but she pointedly ignores it and simply keeps marching through the crowd of drunk teenagers. She pauses at the back door, praying to everything on earth that Simon will have moved on from the yard, and then shoves it open and follows Magnus outside, heading towards the street behind the house where Magnus had parked his car.

But apparently fate still thinks she needs to be reminded that it hates her because just as she's about to climb into the passenger seat she catches sight of the ratty boy and his best friend. He's laughing, happy and carefree as he looks down at the girl in front of him with so much love evident in his eyes.

She hates the way it makes her sick.

* * *

_16, August_

* * *

It's Isabelle's birthday and she lays on her bed motionlessly, staring at the ceiling with her phone clutched against her chest. She tries to will it to vibrate, to receive a call or a text or just something to show that _someone _remembers. It's almost night already, the sky having gone a dusky grey as the sun sinks behind the horizon, and still nothing. Neither of her brothers have said a word about it either.

As if on queue, her bedroom door creaks open slowly and she sits up to get a better view of whoever it is. Alec stands at her door, looking hesitant and wary and unsure and everything she wishes he never was around her. He breathes carefully, stepping closer until he can sink down onto the edge of the bed beside her. He twists around to face her and for a moment neither of them speak, simply staring at each other.

And then Alec's face twists into a sad, guilty look and he reaches out to brush her hair behind her ear before pulling her against him in a tight embrace. It's been so long since he's held her, years full of a growing distance she can't cross, and she sinks into it desperately. She knows she's going to start crying soon and, somehow, her brother seems to know that too because he just presses her closer to him and rests his face against her head, like he'd done that night so many years ago when she'd come home to find her parents screaming at each other.

"Happy birthday, Iz," he whispers softly and she shakes with a silent sob that she doesn't let draw forth any tears. She doesn't want him to see her cry, not again. She's sick of crying, something she's done twice already in the past year. But it's so, _so_ hard to fight the tears when it's the first time he's really said anything to her in so long, the first time he's called her anything but Isabelle.

"I'm sorry," she hears him say, though it's so quiet it almost gets lost under his breath.

"It's okay," she whispers back and he clutches her tighter, burying his face into her hair even more. She knows that this isn't going to last, that the next day when it's no longer her birthday he'll go back to pushing her away, but she's content just to have these few words with the brother she misses so much. She doesn't even care if this is all she gets for her birthday, if just a few precious minutes with him is all anyone gives her.

"I," he starts, but then hesitates. "I lo―" he tries again and she knows what he's going to say so she cuts him off.

"It's okay," she repeats, even softer this time. "You don't have to say it," she says and he doesn't. He just holds her close for another minute longer before standing and moving silently back out her bedroom door. It clicks shut softly behind him and she stares at it for a moment before she glances over at the phone sitting abandoned on the other side of her bed. She grabs it slowly, pressing the button on the side and watching the screen light up to reveal that she has a new text message. She swipes it open and laughs softly in a sudden bout of happiness.

_**From Simon, Received 10:43**_

_Happy Birthday Iz_

_**To Simon, Sent 10:51**_

_You remembered_

* * *

_16, January_

* * *

She sits on the stairs and cries for longer than she can keep track of, until her legs are aching and she feels like she's all but run out of tears. It takes many deep breaths before she manages to make them stop completely but the crushing feeling of loneliness doesn't go away. She needs someone there, someone she can just have a normal conversation with to remind herself that not everything is falling apart, that she's not losing all the tiny pieces of people she has left.

She pulls her phone out and presses the call button as hard as she can, still trying to breathe the pain away. She waits with shaking hands as it rings once, then twice, then three times until finally there's a click, a brief chorus of crackling noise, and then a soft greeting from the other end of the line that makes her let out a relieved sigh. She closes her eyes and leans her head back against the railing of the stairs.

"Simon?" she asks and she hears a crash before he curses softly under his breath.

"Isa― uh, hey, Isabelle," he stutters out awkwardly, clearly not having been expecting her to call. She finds herself letting out a quiet laugh, though she still feels like she's on the brink of tears.

"Hey," she says softly.

"So, what's up?" he asks, still awkward and she laughs again. It feels good.

"Nothing, just bored," she tells him, the lie slipping off her tongue easily like the thousands that have come before it. She prays he can't hear it, though she knows he won't.

"Oh, well, uh, yeah. Me too." A beat passes where neither of them speak and while she thinks he might be finding it uncomfortable, she relishes in just knowing there's someone on the other end of the phone. She relishes in just knowing that, for once, someone is there.

"Hey, Simon?" she whispers after another moment.

"Yeah, Isabelle?" he replies gently and she smiles, eyes still closed and head still leaning against the railing.

"Do you want to go out? On Monday?" she asks and hears him let out a breath. Actually, it almost seems like he might be hyperventilating.

"Yes! I mean, uh, yeah where?" She laughs for the third time this phone call and again it feels good, great. The sinking weight in her chest is getting lighter. She likes this, even if she knows he's still pining after Clary. She doesn't want to think about that, actually.

"I don't know, movies? Wherever you want to go." She tries not to sound too desperate, and thinks she succeeds though she can't quite be sure. It's Simon, after all.

"Movies sounds great!" he says and she can hear the excitement evident in his voice before there's a yell in the background and he's swearing quietly under his breath for the second time. "Sorry, Iz, I've got to go. I'll text you, kay?" She barely has time to reply before he's gone and she's left listening to the dial tone ringing in her ears.

_He called me Iz._

* * *

**_Follow, favourite and review :) And for those of you who reviewed the last chapter, I'll read and review something of yours closer to the end of the week after exams soplease review again :'(_**


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